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A  Book  of 


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Discoveries! 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/discoveriebookofOOmaserich 


A   Book  of  Discoveries 


"  The  boys  had  all  they  could  do  to  keep  the  rollers  going." 

[Pag-e  25. 


r^ 


T3/  joKiNT  MAse.rie.LD 

NEW  YORK 
FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


TO 

JUDITH 


281432 


Chapter  I.  -  -     -     -     -      -     -i 

Chapter  II.  ._.---  15 

Chapter  III.  -     -     -     -     -     -  26 

Chapter  IV.  ------  35 

Chapter  V.  __--.-  52 

Chapter  VI.  ......  69 

Chapter  VII.  -     -     -     -     -     -  91 

Chapter  VIII.  -     -     -     -     -     -  106 

Chapter  IX.  -     -     -     -     -     -  122 

Chapter  X.  _     .     .     -     -     -  i33 

Chapter  XI.  -     -     -     -     -     -  i49 

Chapter  XII.  -     -     -     -     -     -  i75 

Chapter  XIII.  -            -            -            -            -            -  190 

Chapter  XIV.  -            -            -            -            -            -  198 

ix 


Contents 


Chapter 
Chapter 
Chapter 
Chapter 
Chapter 
Chapter 
Chapter 
Chapter 
Chapter 
Chapter 


XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 

XXI. 

XXII. 

XXIII 

XXIV. 


FAGE 

2IO 

225 
241 
252 
261 
276 
291 

313 
329 

339 


hn^T'  oF  flhhQ^&Tu^i^Th(2)9uB:>    ( 


"  The    boys   had    all   they  could   do   to   keep   the   rollers 

going  "  -  -  -  -  -  Frontispiece 

"  It  stood  in  a  clump  of  trees  "  -  -  -  -  i 
"  Mac  and  Robin  had  often  wondered  what  was  inside  the 

hole"               ------  5 

' '  They  would  feast  like  hunters  together  "             -             -  1 1 

"  Through  a  trap-door  into  the  river "        -             -             -  i8 

"  Ghosts  of  old  pirates  with  cutlasses  "        -             -             -  21 

"  Some  gpvernor  over  by  the  hedge  "           -             -             -  28 

"  A  shelter  a  little  bigger  than  a  sentry-box  "  -  -  37 
"  They    saw    that    the    new    creek    was    a    little    narrow 

harbour"         -              -             -             -             -              -  41 

"  A   battle   was   one   of    the   safest   places   a    man   could 

be  in  "             -              -              -              -              -              -  44 

"  Each  holding  a  flag  of  truce  "        -             -             -             -  47 

"  '  Please,  sir,  we're  very  sorry  '  "    -              -              -              -  53 

"  '  A  greater  explorer  than  Columbus  '  "  -  -  -  60 
"  Mr.   Hampden  watched  them  as  long  as  they  were  in 

sight  "              ------  63 

"  '  Something  not  much  better  than  apes  '  "             -             -  71 

"  The  sailors  stole  from  one  safe  haven  to  another  "     -  83 

"  '  I  wonder  what  a  cat's  day  is  like  '  "        -             -             -  no 

xi 


t*  » 


List    of   Illustrations 

I'AGE 

'  A  highwayman  called  Bendigo  '  "             -             -  -  115 

'  Send  £s^o,  or  we  shall  sell  your  son  to  the  Turks  '  "  -  116 

He  was  shot  on  the  London  road  '"    -             -  -  117 

"  '  Little  shells  which  burst  all  over  the  place  '  "   -  -  126 

"  '  This  is  the  milestone.     This  is  where  we  begin  '  "  -  128 

"  '  Creeping  up  on  the  Romans,  dressed  up  as  a  wild  boar  '  "  130 

"  '  Goin'  to  do  a  bit  of  campin',  like  ?'  he  asked  "  -  -  131 

"  Robin  read  the  rules  from  a  bit  of  paper  "            -  -  i37 

Brown  Willy  :  profile  of  the  hill       -             -             -  -  141 

"  The  savage  aloft  there,  leaning  on  his  spear  "  -  ^47 

"  A  figure  in  a  black  mask  rose  up  and  pelted  them  "  -  159 

"  '  They  brought  up  the  catapults  to  cover  the  attack  '  "  -  165 

Brown  Willy,  showing  fortifications              -             -  -  171 

"  The  stones  went  rolling  downhill  into  the  enemy  "  -  178 
"  *  I'd  have  sprung  at  him,  and  bitten  a  lump  right  out  of 

him '  "              -             -             -             -             -  -  202 

"Very  soon  he  had  a  column  of  smoke  ascending"  -  212 

"  Prisoners  conversing  by  knocking  on  the  walls  "  -  213 

"  He  met  Mac  coming  down "           -             -             -  -  219 

"  '  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  tried  to  find  out  about  it '  "  -  229 

"  '  I'd  give  the  maroons  some  sardines  !'  "   -             -  -  231 

"  '  Are  you  Flint  V  "             -             -             -             -  -  247 

"  They  sat  round  the  blaze  "             -             -             -  -  254 

"  '  A  skilled  waterman  to  heave  the  lead  '  "              -  -  267 

"  The  boys  worked   out  the  soundings  "   -             -  -  278 

"  '  Tailor,  I'm  going  to  hang  you  up,  like  '  "              -  -  283 

'  A  sailor  swarmed  up  and  made  it  fast '  "             -  -  293 

*'  '  They  sailed  away  '  "         -             -             -             -  -  301 

"  '  A  little  cairn  of  stones  '  "              -             -             -  -  314 

"  '  One  of  the  bad  Straits  squalls  '  "              -             -  -  319 

Besides  initials  and  tailpieces. 


Xll 


A    Book    of    Discoveries 


Chapter  I 


iAC  and  Robin  vere  two  brothers 
who  hved  with  their  mother  at 
Waters  Orton.  Their  house  was 
built  on  the  only  flat  ground 
within  sight.  It  was  at  the  top 
of  a  roll  of  hill  which  ran  for  some 
miles  along  the  course  of  the 
river.  It  stood  in  a  clump  of 
trees  full  of  rooks'  nests.  At  twi- 
light, when  the  rooks  Were  homing,  there  was  a  great 
clack  about  the  house  ;  but  Mrs.  Shenstone,  the  mother 
of  the  boys,  liked  the  cawing,  since  she  had  heard  it 
every  night  for  nearly  twenty  years.  The  rooks  were 
great  rogues,  but  they  had  been  there  so  long  they  were 
almost  a  part  of  the  house.     The  trees  in  which  they 

A 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

nested  made  the  garden  dark.  It  was  a  spring,  not  a 
summer,  garden.  After  the  trees  were  in  full  leaf  the 
beds  got  little  sun.  Until  May  it  was  always  very 
lovely  every  year  with  tulips,  daffodils,  and  big  double 
daisies. 

Just  outside  the  garden  the  hill  tipped  down  to  the 
river,  so  steeply  that  one  could  bowl  a  stone  from  the 
lawn  into  the  water.  It  was  not  a  broad  river — it  was 
only  fifteen  yards  across — but  just  there  it  looked  very 
wonderful.  It  went  curving  round  the  fold  of  hill  on 
which  the  house  stood,  till  it  shut  it  in  on  three  sides. 
Standing  in  the  middle  of  the  lawn,  the  boys  could  throw 
stones  to  their  right,  to  their  left,  and  straight  in  front 
of  them,  and  hear  a  splash  from  all  three  sides  where 
the  stones  hit  the  water.  Long  before  our  time  the 
ancient  Britons  had  had  a  camp  on  that  knob  of  hill,  so 
moated.  They  had  run  deep  trenches,  to  cut  it  from 
the  rest  of  the  hill  ;  and  there  they  had  camped,  safe  and 
snug,  with  their  cattle  and  their  wives.  Their  trenches 
were  all  grassed  over  now.  Within  them,  in  the  ground 
of  a  field  now  the  Shenstones'  pasture,  were  a  few  little 
hollows,  which  had  once  been  the  sites  of  their  huts. 
Mac  and  Robin,  digging  in  one  of  these  hollows,  once 
found  a  queer,  curved  bone.  The  Rector  said  it  had  once 
been  the  tusk  of  a  wild  boar,  which  the  Britons  had 
killed  and  eaten  there,  in  the  days  when  wild  boars  lived 
in  Britain. 

The  river  came  to  this  horse-shoe  bend  from  the  hills 
twelve  miles  away.  One  could  see  the  hills  from  Waters 
Orton,  lying  in  pleasant  rolls  to  the  north,  with  one 
bigger,   bluer  hill  standing  out  above  them.     "  Brown 

2 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

Willy  "  the  people  called  this  hill,  though  it  never  looked 
brown.  It  was  always  blue-looking,  because  of  the  rock 
upon  it.  The  Rector  said  that  "  Brown  Willy  "  was 
really  ancient  British  for  "  Highest  Hill."  He  knew  a 
lot  about  old  things,  the  Rector.  Anyhow,  the  river 
rose  on  Brown  Willy.  It  came  trembling  up  in  eddies 
into  a  pool  like  a  big  shallow  dish.  Then  it  wandered 
out  in  a  tiny  trickle,  which  stole  down-hill,  getting  quickly 
bigger,  till  a  mile  from  its  source  it  was  a  sizeable  brook. 
Then  it  wandered  abroad  into  the  valley,  getting  deeper 
rather  than  broader,  turning  a  mill  or  two  at  its  falls, 
and  nourishing  in  its  way  a  forest  of  alders.  It  took  in 
other  brooks  as  it  went  along.  It  ran  through  the  Dead 
Man's  Wood,  where  the  Squire  was  shot  by  poachers,  so 
the  story  said.  The  wood*  overshadowed  it  for  nearly  a 
mile  of  its  life.  Fallen  branches  dammed  it,  making 
pools,  where  water-fowl  nested,  almost  out  of  sight  of 
the  sun.  Great  pale  ferns  grew  about  it.  Water- weeds 
strove  to  stifle  it.  Here  and  there,  where  it  opened  out, 
water-lilies,  yellow  and  white,  grew  in  the  open,  so  thickly 
that  the  rats  could  cross  by  them,  hardly  sprinkling  their 
fur.  Then,  when  it  loitered  clear  of  the  wood,  it  stretched 
away  through  the  meadows,  watering  many-blossomed 
brook-lime.  Little  brooks  joined  it  from  each  ditch. 
It  was  well  started  now  on  its  way  to  the  Thames.  Cows 
waded  out  into  its  shallows,  switching  their  flanks.  Water- 
rats  swam  and  dived  there.  In  the  high,  red-clay  banks 
kingfishers  nested.  One  or  two  herons  came  fishing. 
Under  the  alder-roots  in  these  reaches  one  could  some- 
times hear  a  small  pike,  flogging  with  his  tail.  One  or 
two  main  roads  crossed  it,  but  it  avoided  the  towns  to 

3 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

which  they  led.  It  was  a  lonely  river  ;  it  saw  very  little 
of  man.  Four  miles  from  its  source  it  passed  within 
sight  of  a  village,  but  the  villagers  took  little  notice  of 
it,  except  to  drop  their  broken  pans  into  it  just  below 
the  bridge.  The  pans  rusted  away  there,  gradually 
growing  in  number,  till,  at  the  time  of  which  I  write, 
they  made  a  shallow,  in  which  bits  of  china  gleamed 
among  kettles,  tins,  and  dishes. 

Seven  miles  farther  down  it  came  into  a  lonelier  part. 
The  little  folds  of  hill  drew  close,  growing  steeper  as  they 
approached,  till  the  river  was  in  a  narrow  valley,  with 
steep,  wooded  banks  on  each  side.  In  places  where  the 
hills  drew  away  a  little  from  the  river  edge  there  were 
fields  of  rich  pasture  and  apple-orchards,  or,  perhaps, 
mere  covert  of  bramble  and  gorse,  too  thick  for  hounds 
to  break.  As  a  rule,  though,  the  river  wandered  on 
between  two  high  banks,  which  were  beautiful,  even  on 
the  dullest  day.  In  summer,  when  the  yellow  flags  were 
in  bloom,  when  all  the  woods  were  in  leaf,  and  the  fern 
was  springing,  it  was  more  than  beautiful.  It  was 
haunted  then  by  a  peace  which  was  unearthly.  To  be 
there  then  was  like  living  in  a  very  beautiful  picture.  It 
was  not  like  being  in  the  world. 

In  one  part,  near  the  hill  where  the  Shenstones'  house 
stood,  the  bank  became  a  low  red  sandstone  clift,  where 
the  martins  had  drilled  themselves  nests,  out  of  reach  of 
marauders.  Eight  feet  above  the  water,  and  twelve  feet 
below  the  brambles  at  the  top,  there  was  a  hole  in  the 
cliff  big  enough  for  a  fox's  earth.  Mac  and  Robin  had 
often  wondered  what  was  inside  it,  but  they  had  never 
been  able  to  get  near  enough  to  it  to  find  out.     The}^ 

4 


"  Mac  and  Robin  had  often  wondered  what  was  inside  the  hole." 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

could  not  climb  to  it  from  a  boat,  nor  could  they  get 
down  to  it  from  above  ;  but,  passing  it  often,  as  they  did, 
it  occupied  their  thoughts.  They  wondered  how  it  had 
come  to  be  there. 

A  mile  below  the  Shenstones'  hill  the  river  entered 
again  into  woodland.  The  woods  grew  down  to  the 
water  on  both  sides.  There  were  many  rare  birds  in 
this  part,  for  no  man  shot  the  woods.  They  were  liker 
wild  lands  than  any  woods  in  England.  Badgers  lived 
there.  There  were  even  pine-martens  in  a  clump  of  firs 
on  the  hill.  Otters  bred  on  the  banks  without  fear  of 
men.  Nobody  ever  shot  them  or  hunted  thern.  Foxes 
bred  in  the  woods,  and  grew  up  and  went  roving.  No 
hounds  ever  came  there  to  break  their  peace.  The  wild 
things  lived  happily  there — more  happily  than  in  any 
place  in  England.  The  place  was  like  forest  not  yet 
altered  by  man. 

In  the  heart  of  the  woods  the  water  broadened  out 
suddenly  into  a  lake.  The  Rector  said  that  once,  cen- 
turies ago,  there  had  been  beavers  there,  and  that  the 
lake  had  been  made  by  the  beavers — a  big  colony  of 
beavers.  They  had  dammed  up  the  river  there,  he  said, 
to  make  a  site  for  their  lodges.  Long  after  the  beavers 
had  fallen  to  dust,  and  about  a  hundred  years  before 
this  story  begins,  the  owner  of  the  estate  had  widened 
and  deepened  the  lake  for  his  own  pleasure.  Now  it  was 
a  broad  expanse,  half  a  mile  long  and  five  hundred  yards 
across,  with  a  little  island  close  to  one  bank.  The  land 
of  this  bank  was  flat  for  a  brief  space.  Reeds  grew  to 
a  great  height  all  along  the  flat.  They  grew  so  thick 
together  that  one  could  not  see  a  foot  into  their  depth. 

7 


A    Book    of    Discoveries 

This  was  a  rare  place  for  water-fowl.  Strange,  beautiful 
fowl  like  ruffs  and  bitterns  came  there.  While  they  were 
there  they  were  safe  from  pursuit. 

The  owner  of  that  estate  loved  all  wild  creatures.  The 
great  house  of  his  fathers  had  been  burned  down  many 
years  before.  Since  then  he  lived  alone  in  what  had  once 
been  a  keeper's  lodge.  His  chief  pleasure  was  the  study  of 
the  wild  life  on  his  estate.  He  knew  it  better,  perhaps, 
than  any  man  living — certainly  better  than  any  landlord. 
Most  of  the  landowners  of  England  value  the  life  on 
their  estates  merely  because  they  have  pleasure  in 
blasting  it  out  with  guns.  Mr.  Hampden  valued  it 
because  he  saw  in  every  little  mouse  and  warbler  some- 
thing living  and  lovely,  with  a  tiny  brain  and  knowledge 
of  the  world,  which  became  more  wonderful  the  better 
he  came  to  know  it.  He  got  more  pleasure  and  know- 
ledge from  his  woods  than  the  killing  man  could  under- 
stand. Birds  followed  him  for  crumbs  and  currants 
whenever  he  went  for  a  walk.  A  robin  would  perch  upon 
his  shoulder.  Squirrels  would  come  to  him  for  nuts. 
He  always  wore  soft  hide  mocassins  when  in  the  woods, 
so  that  he  might  walk  noiselessly.  Creeping  gently,  he 
could  often  surprise  a  vixen  playing  with  her  cubs,  or 
see  an  otter  at  dinner,  or  a  weasel  hunting.  He  knew  the 
birds  and  their  habits  ;  the  insects,  the  plants  loved  by 
them  ;  the  trees  where  the  squirrels  nested  ;  the  springs 
where  the  woodcock  fed.  Nature  was  a  never-ending 
wonder-book  to  him.  There  is  always  something  new  in 
Nature.  On  days  of  great  beauty,  at  sunset  or  at  sun- 
dawn,  he  felt  that  he  might  suddenly  become  one  with 
Nature,    and    understand    what    the    wild    things    said 

8 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

and    see    the   strange,   terrible  heart  of    things  visibly 
beating. 

Mac  and  Robin  were  not  like  Mr.  Hampden.  They 
were  two  roving  youths  who  liked  adventure.  They 
had  the  use  of  the  old  boat  in  the  boat-house.  They  had 
a  couple  of  catapults  apiece,  and  a  bullet-mould  between 
them.  They  had  persuaded  Molly,  the  cook,  to  stitch 
them  some  canvas  pouches  which  would  button  on  to 
their  cricket-belts.  Each  had  three  pouches — one  for 
the  catapults,  one  for  bullets,  and  the  third  for  small 
shot.  With  these  upon  them,  they  would  sally  out  after 
breakfast  to  the  boat.  Their  mother  saw  them  no  more 
till  tea-time.  They  always  pulled  up-stream,  partly 
because  their  bathing-place  was  under  the  sandstone 
cliff,  but  chiefly  because  there  was  a  mill,  only  a  little 
way  down-stream,  which  blocked  the  other  way  for  them. 
After  bathing,  they  u^ed  to  pull  up  to  a  wild  bit  of  covert, 
all  gorse  and  bracken,  which  they  called  "  the  happy 
hunting-ground."  Here  they  moored  the  boat  to  an 
alder -tree,  while  they  became  Red  Indians.  Creeping 
along  through  the  covert,  they  fired  at  whatever  hove  in 
sight.  After  their  shootings,  they  made  for  what  they 
called  their  camp,  in  the  thickest  part  of  the  covert,  at 
the  top  of  the  hill.  Here  they  had  cleared  a  little  space 
near  a  spring.  They  had  piled  up  the  gorse  and  bracken 
which  they  had  cut  into  a  sort  of  hedge  about  the  space. 
It  was  a  little  fiat  space  about  six  feet  across.  At  one 
corner  of  it  they  had  made  a  cache.  They  had  dug  a 
hole  about  eighteen  inches  square.  At  the  bottom  and 
sides  of  the  hole  they  had  laid  slates  from  the  roof  of  an 
old  ruined  chapel  at  Waters  End,  a  couple  of  miles  away. 

9 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

When  this  was  done,  they  had  only  to  lay  another  slate 
across,  as  lid,  to  make  a  neat  little  water-tight  vault  in 
which  they  could  hide  their  treasures.  When  the 
treasures  were  in  and  the  lid  in  place,  they  merely  filled 
in  the  earth,  trod  it  down,  and  lit  a  fire  on  the  top  of  it, 
to  remove  the  marks  of  their  handiwork.  In  this  cache 
they  kept  (to  be  melted  down  in  time  into  catapult 
bullets)  a  chunk  of  old  lead-pipe  from  the  chapel ;  a 
length  or  two  of  elastic  ;  a  bit  of  kid  glove  and  twine,  for 
catapult  repairs  ;  a  paper  full  of  pepper,  a  piece  of  alum, 
a  block  of  salt,  for  the  curing  of  skins ;  some  likely-looking 
cat  tie-prongs,  tightly  bound  across  with  twine,  till  they 
had  seasoned  ;  a  whet-stone  ;  the  skins  of  one  or  two 
mice,  maturing,  as  the  boys  planned,  for  the  post  of 
book-marks  for  Mrs.  Shenstone  ;  many  little  rolls  of  string; 
a  pair  of  egg-blowers,  coarse  and  fine  ;  a  tin  full  of  cotton- 
wool, for  the  carrying  of  birds'-eggs  ;  and  a  few  egg- 
piercers,  made  of  sail-needles  stuck  into  wooden  handles. 
In  another  rather  bigger  cache  they  kept  provisions  of 
bread,  nuts,  cocoa,  sugar,  eggs,  and  sometimes  apples, 
together  with  a  saucepan,  some  matches,  and  two  cups ; 
for  whenever  it  was  fine  they  cooked  and  ate  their  lunch 
in  camp.  They  used  to  light  a  fire  in  a  fireplace  built 
up  of  a  few  bricks,  which  they  had  carried  there.  One 
of  them  kept  the  fire  going  with  dry  leaves  and  twigs, 
while  the  other  filled  the  saucepan  at  the  spring.  Then 
they  would  boil  their  eggs,  brew  themselves  cocoa  (or 
jelly,  when  they  had  the  money),  and  feast  like  hunters 
together,  rising  up  from  time  to  time  to  make  sure  that 
no  enemies  were  creeping  on  them  through  the  grass. 
Once,    when  their   shooting  had  been  successful,    they 

10 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 


added  to  their  dinner  a  sparrow  and  a  tomtit  which  they 
had  killed.  The  dish  was  more  trouble  than  it  was 
worth,  they  decided,  for  the  plucking  of  the  birds  took 
them  a  long  time,  and  the  flesh,  when  boiled  (which  also 
took  a  long  time),  gave  them  only  a  bite  apiece  of  very 
indifferent  meat.     When  the  corn  was  ripe  in  the  fields. 


"  They  would  feast  like  hunters  together." 

they  used  to  pluck  a  few  ears  and  winnow  them  in  their 
hands,  so  that  they  might  make  a  dish  of  corn,  boiled 
up  with  sugar.  This  they  called  "  succotash,"  after  an 
Indian  dish,  about  which  they  had  read  in  a  story-book. 
Once,  after  their  dinner,  they  tried  another  Indian 
custom,  which  was  less  successful.     They  tried  to  make 

II 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

Indian  tobacco  of  the  dried  inner  bark  of  the  willow-tree. 
Unfortunately,  the  English  willow  is  not  the  proper  kind 
for  the  purpose.  They  smoked  the  stuff  (after  they  had 
dried  it  at  the  lire)  in  a  clay-pipe  bought  at  Waters  Orton. 
It  made  them  feel  so  queer  that  they  gave  up  that  side 
of  Indian  life  altogether. 

One  morning,  early  in  August,  when  the  summer 
holidays  were  still  but  a  few  days  old,  Mac  and  Robin 
climbed  to  the  highest  part  of  the  camp,  just  beyond  the 
orchard.  They  flung  themselves  down  on  the  crest  of 
the  citadel,  looking  down  into  the  trench.  They  lay  very 
still  there  on  the  soft  turf  full  of  grasshoppers,  hoping 
that  some  rabbit  would  be  fool  enough  to  come  out  of 
his  burrow,  so  as  to  give  them  a  shot.  But  the  rabbits 
had  other  aims  in  life.  They  lay  very  close  ;  not  one 
appeared. 

"  Bother  these  bunnies  !"  said  Mac.  "  We  haven't 
had  a  shot." 

"  Well,  let's  go  down  and  bathe,"  said  Robin.  "  We 
can  come  here  again  after  tea.  They're  sure  to  be  out 
after  tea.  It  would  be  rather  fun  if  we  could  get  a  few 
planks  up  that  oak,  and  lay  them  across  the  branches,  so 
as  to  make  a  platform,  like  they  do  in  the  Pacific  ;  and 
then  we  could  have  a  rope-ladder,  and  haul  it  up  after 
us,  so  that  no  enemies  could  come  up.  And  then  we 
could  lie  down  on  the  planks,  and  the  rabbits  would 
never  see  us.  We  should  be  able  to  pot  them  like 
billio." 

"  Let's  get  up  the  oak  and  see,"  said  Mac.  "  There 
are  some  old  boards  up  in  the  loft,  'cos  I  saw  them  when 
I  was  looking  for  the  rat-trap.     But  we  should  want  a 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

ladder  to  get  them  up  the  tree.  I  dare  say  Jarge  would 
help  us.  I  say,  Robin,  there  are  two  branches.  They'd 
be  just  the  thing." 

"  How  are  we  to  get  up  ourselves  ?"  said  Robin.  **  It's 
a  long  way  up  to  the  lowest  bough." 

"  I  know  what  we'll  do,"  said  Mac.  "  We'll  get  a 
hurdle,  and  stand  on  that." 

*'  No,  we  won't  do  that,"  said  Robin.  "  That's  not 
what  the  Indians  would  do.  They'd  fling  their  lassoes 
over  the  boughs,  and  then  pull  themselves  up." 

"  It's  not  so  easy  to  fling  a  rope  up,"  said  Mac.  "  It 
sticks  in  the  boughs.  Remember  how  we  tried  once  with 
the  clothes-line  when  we  were  after  the  kite's  nest  ?" 

"  Then  I  know  what  we'll  do,"  said  Robin.  "  We'll 
get  that  old  nobbly  log,  and  lean  it  up  against  the  tree, 
and  stand  on  that." 

"  It  isn't  long  enough,"  said  Mac — "  it's  not  nearly 
long  enough." 

"  No  ;  but  I  know  what,"  said  Robin.  "  We'll  stand 
on  the  log  as  far  as  we  can  get,  and  then  we'll  drive  in 
nails.  We've  got  those  tenpenny  nails  we  got  to  make 
darts  with  ;  and  there  are  some  wall-spikes  in  the  tool- 
shed.  We'll  drive  in  one  or  two  of  those  for  our  hands, 
and  then  we'll  bag  a  bit  of  clothes-line.  And  when  we 
get  up  we'll  tie  it  to  the  bough,  and  let  it  dangle  down, 
like  a  sort  of  handle,  to  pull  ourselves  up  by." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mac  ;  "  and  I  don't  think  we'll  ask  Jarge 
to  help.  We'll  keep  it  secret.  Come  on,  and  we'll  bring 
the  log,  and  then  we'll  get  the  nails  and  things." 

"  We  could  saw  the  planks  if  they're  too  long,"  said 
Robin.     **  They'll    never    be    wanted.     They're    bits    of 

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A    Book    of    Discoveries 

the  scaffolding  the  men  had  when  they  mended  the 
chimney.  And  I  know  how  we  could  pull  them  up.  We 
could  put  the  clothes-line  over  the  branch  above  our 
branches,  and  then  tie  it  to  the  planks,  and  pull  them  up 
from  down  below,  and  then  one  of  us  go  up  and  lay  them 
across,  while  the  other  lowers  them  to  him." 

They  set  to  with  a  good  will  at  the  work.  In  about  an 
hour's  time  they  had  finished.  They  sat  together  on  a 
little  wobbly  platform  of  planks  while  they  picked  the 
tree-dust  out  of  their  eyes.  "  This  won't  do,"  said  Mac. 
"  All  this  shrubby  stuff  and  twigs  are  in  our  way,  and 
this  wobbling  isn't  safe.  We'll  have  to  tie  the  planks 
somehow." 

'*  I  know  how  to  tie  them,"  said  Robin,  ''  'cos  when  we 
had  the  scaffolding  I  got  one  of  the  men  to  show  me  how 
the  planks  were  tied,  'cos  I  thought  we  might  one  day 
want  to  do  this  ;  only  we'll  want  all  the  rest  of  Mary's 
clothes-line." 

"  Mary' 11  be  in  an  awful  wax  when  she  finds  out," 
said  Mac,  shinning  down  to  get  the  line  ;  "  but  I  don't 
see  what  else  we  can  use  unless  we  tear  up  a  sheet,  like 
the  prisoners  used  to." 

"  No.  Get  the  clothes-line,"  said  Robin.  "  Mother'd 
be  in  a  wax  if  we  took  a  sheet." 


14 


Chapter  II 


|HEN  they  had  made  their  perch 
secure  with  a  lashing,  they  chopped 
away  some  of  the  smaller  branches 
which  were  in  their  way.  They 
stood  up,  and  leaned  over  a  branch 
which  made  a  breastwork  for 
them. 

"  Give  me  the  chopper,  Rob," 
said  Mac.  "  If  I  could  get  this  beastly  branch  off,  we 
should  be  able  to  see  for  miles,  and  we  could  make  this 
our  lookout  place,  and  pretend  we  were  in  a  lighthouse." 
"  Or  like  Sir  Francis  Drake,  looking  for  the  Spaniards* 
treasure-train  ;  pretend  there  was  a  lot  of  gold  and  silver 
coming,  and  we  were  robbers." 

"  Run  and  get  the  saw,  Rob,"  said  Mac,  pausing  in  his 
hacking.     "  This  branch  is  as  tough  as  old  boots." 
"  You  go  and  get  the  saw,  and  let  me  have  a  hack." 
"  No,  I'm  not  going  to  get  the  saw." 
After  a  time,   with  the  aid  of  the  saw,   the  branch 
cracked.     A  few  more  vigorous  strokes  made  it  split  itself 
up  by  its  own  weight.    It  drooped  dowTi,  so  as  to  screen 
the  platform  from  below.     Those  standing  on  it  now  had 
a  clear  view  over  a  couple  of  miles  of  valley. 
**  Shall  I  saw  it  right  off  ?"  said  Mac. 

15 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

**  No  ;  let  it  hang  as  it  is.  It's  splendid  as  it  is. 
Besides,  if  we  cut  it  off  it'll  fall  down,  and  it'll  be 
spotted,  and  we  shall  get  into  a  row." 

"  We'd  better  get  down  now,  and  put  back  the  tools 
in  the  tool-shed." 

*'  Yes  ;  and  we'll  have  our  dinner  here." 

"  Oh,  but  we  can't  fag  up  to  the  camp  to  get  the  things 
from  the  cache." 

"  Who's  going  to  ?     We'll  go  and  ask  Mary." 

"  And  I  know  what,"  said  Mac  :  **  we'll  get  some  tins, 
and  keep  some  things  up  here.  Nobody  ever  comes  here. 
We'll  keep  raisins.  And  I  know  what :  we'll  get  some  flour 
from  Mary,  and  we'll  get  a  brick,  and  make  some  tortillas." 

"  What  are  tortillas  ?" 

"  They're  a  sort  of  cake  the  Indians  make." 

"  How  do  you  make  them  ?" 

*'  Oh,  you  get  a  brick,  and  make  it  very  hot  in  a  fire. 
We  could  make  a  fire  in  the  ditch  there.  And  when  the 
brick's  very  hot,  you  just  spread  your  flour  on  it,  and  it 
turns  out  a  tortilla." 

"  Doesn't  the  brick  ever  burn  the  flour  ?"  said  Robin. 
He  had  tried  outlandish  dishes  before. 

"  I  dare  say  it  does  sometimes,"  said  Mac,  "  when  the 
Indians  aren't  quick  enough.  I  wonder  where  we  could 
get  a  brick." 

"  There  are  some  bricks  coming  loose  in  the  wall  by 
the  filbert-tree,"  said  Robin.  "  But  I  call  them  rather 
measly  bricks.  They've  got  such  a  lot  of  wood-lice 
about  them.     Wood-lice  are  poison,  aren't  they  ?" 

"  Are  they  ?  But  we  should  wash  the  brick,  and  then 
it  would  be  all  right." 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  But  you  couldn't  be  sure  you'd  washed  it  all  off.  I 
know,  'cos  of  Jarge's  dog.  Poison  sticks  in  a  thing  for 
years.  And,  then,  the  hot  might  bring  it  out  into  the 
tortilla.  And,  then,  I  saw  a  centipede  there  yesterday. 
And  that  just  shows  you." 

**  I  know  where  we  could  get  a  brick,"  said  Mac.  "  Up 
against  the  stable,  where  the  lime  is.  There's  a  couple 
of  bricks,  left  by  the  men  when  they  did  the  chimney." 

They  washed  their  brick  under  the  pump  in  the  yard. 

"  Mac,"  said  Robin,  "  you'll  have  to  mix  your  flour 
with  water,  won't  you  ?  'cos,  if  you  don't,  I  don't  see 
how  you  can  spread  it." 

'*  Yes,"  said  Mac  ;  "  of  course  I  shall.  You  mix  it  up 
into  a  paste,  and  then  smear  it  on  with  a  sort  of  brick- 
layer's trowel.  What  could  we  use  as  a  smearer  ?  I 
know  what  we  could  use — the  back  of  the  copper  coal- 
scuttle shovel." 

"  Isn't  copper  poison,  though  ?"  said  Robin.  "  It 
gets  green  stuff  on  it,  called  verdigris,  and  it's  deadly 
poisonous.  There  was  a  chap  in  Italy  who  used  to  mix 
it  with  people's  wine,  and  they  swelled  up  and  died, 
and  then  he  dropped  them  through  a  trap-door  into  the 
river." 

"  There's  no  verdigris  on  this,"  said  Mac,  '*  'cos  Polly 
cleans  it  every  morning.  You  go  and  bag  it  out  of  the 
study  while  I  go  and  see  Mary." 

They  lit  their  fire  in  a  sheltered  part  of  the  ditch,  where 
countless  generations  of  rabbits  had  torn  away  the  ground 
into  a  miniature  quarry.  On  the  floor  of  this  space 
they  spread  their  provisions.  They  had  two  eggs,  a  tin 
full  of  oatmeal,  a   little  tin  of   raisins,  and  a  fruit-tin, 

17  B 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

with  a  string  handle,  full  of  water.  Robin  had  also 
brought  a  tin  dish,  in  which  to  mix  the  meal,  and  a 
lump  of  mutton -fat. 

"  What  d'you  want  fat  for  ?**  Mac  asked  him. 


"  Through  a  trap-door  into  the  river." 


"  It's  to  grease  the  brick  with,"  he  answered.  "  Mary 
says  you  always  have  to  grease  a  thing  you  cook  with, 
or  else  it  sticks." 

"  All  right,"  said  Mac.     ''  Now,  how  much  water  ought 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

we  to  mix  with  the  meal  ?  I  suppose  only  about  as 
much  as  we  used  when  we  mixed  for  the  guinea-pigs." 
They  thrust  the  brick  into  the  blaze,  and  began  to  mix 
the  mess  in  the  dish. 

"  How  shall  we  know  when  the  brick's  hot  enough  ?" 
said  Robin. 

**  Oh,  you  have  to  have  it  pretty  hot,  but  not  red-hot," 
said  Mac.  "  I  should  think  it's  about  hot  enough  now. 
Slice  off  some  of  your  fat  on  to  the  brick,  and  I'll  smear 
it  down  with  the  smearer."  Some  of  the  fat  went  into 
the  fire.  Flames  ran  along  the  surface  of  the  brick,  and 
licked  off  the  smear.  **  Be  quick,  you  ass  !"  said  Robin. 
**  You'll  have  to  dab  on  your  meal  before  the  fat's  burnt. 
Get  your  tortilla  ready,  and  I'll  lift  up  the  brick  a  little, 
and  you  dab  it  on." 

Very  rapidly  Mac  dabbed  a  mass  of  wet  meal  on  to  the 
brick,  and  smeared  it  down  flat  over  the  surface.  They 
had  expected  to  see  it  turn  into  a  kind  of  griddle-cake, 
but,  instead  of  that,  some  of  it  blackened  into  a  cinder 
on  the  brick,  and  the  rest  fell  into  the  fire. 

"  The  book  said  it  was  quite  easy,"  said  Mac  ;  "  and 
look  at  that,  now  !"     He  scraped  off  a  bit  from  the  ruin. 

"  I  suppose  to  make  tortillas  one  wants  practice.  Will 
you  try,  Robin  ?" 

Robin  looked  at  the  burnt  meal  and  then  at  the  meal 
in  the  dish.  "  No,"  he  said,  "  I  don't  think  I'll  try,  'cos 
if  I  bum  mine,  we  shan't  have  anything  to  eat  with  our 
eggs.  We'll  boil  our  eggs,  and  eat  this  oatmeal  with 
them.  I  know  what  we'll  do.  We'll  eat  our  dinner  up 
the  tree,  and  pretend  we're  Australian  gold-diggers,  eating 
damper." 

19 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

They  ate  their  damper  up  the  tree,  and  pretended  that 
they  liked  it.  "I  say,  Mac,"  said  Robin,  standing  up 
after  dinner,  "  you  can  see  like  billio  over  the  valley. 
Look  at  all  those  woods.  Are  those  Mr.  Hampden's 
woods  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Mac  ;  "  they're  all  his.  Jolly  fine,  aren't 
they  ?  Mother  says  there's  a  mystery  about  them.  No- 
body ever  goes  into  those  woods.  We've  never  been  in 
them  ourselves." 

**  I  wonder  whereabouts  his  lake  is,"  said  Robin.  "  I'd 
like  to  get  to  the  lake,  wouldn't  you  ?" 

'*  It's  not  so  easy  to  get  there,"  said  Mac.  **  He  doesn't 
let  people  go.     And  people  say  the  woods  are  haunted." 

"  I  say,  Mac,"  said  Robin,  "  do  you  think  there's 
treasure  buried  there  ?  There  generally  is  in  haimted 
places." 

**  I  expect  there  must  be,"  said  Mac.  "  I  wonder  whose 
treasure  it  would  be." 

"  I  expect  it  would  be  pirates'  or  highwaymen's." 

**  Pirates,  I  should  think,"  said  Robin,  "  'cos  of  the 
lake.  I  expect  they'd  a  ship  on  the  lake  ;  and  they  could 
have  landed  and  sacked  the  towns.  Is  there  an  island 
on  the  lake  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder,"  said  Robin,  '*  if  they  buried 
the  treasure  on  the  island." 

"  They  generally  buried  it  on  an  island,"  said  Mac 
— "  generally  on  a  sandy  island.  I  wonder  if  this  is  a 
sandy  island.  And  then  they  made  a  map  of  the  island 
in  blood,  and  stuck  a  skull  on  a  sword,  to  point  to  where 
the  treasure  was.     And  then  they  wrote  on  the  map, 

20 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

'  North-east  from  Dead  Man's  Head,  ten  paces.  Beware 
of  the  Pirates*  Revenge.'  And  always  after  that  the 
island  would  be  haunted." 


■  ■■** » 


"  Ghosts  of  old  pirates,  with  cutlasses." 

'*  What  sort  of  a  ghost  would  haunt  it  ?"  said  Robin. 
"  Oh,  generally  ghosts  of  old  pirates,  with  cutlasses  ; 
but  sometimes  women  they'd  killed.     You  can  always 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

tell  when  it  was  a  woman  they'd  killed,  because  they  wear 
white,  and  go  about  wringing  their  hands." 

'*  And  what  was  in  the  treasure  generally  ?"  Robin 
asked. 

"  Generally  silver  bars,"  said  Mac,  "  and  pieces  of 
eight  and  ivory  ;  and  a  lot  of  lace  done  up  in  oilskin  ; 
and  gold  cups  and  rings  ;  and  rubies  and  diamonds  as 
big  as  birds'  eggs." 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  fun  if  we  found  it,  Mac  ?  Should  we 
tell  anybody  ?" 

"  No  ;  I  don't  think  we'd  tell  anybody.  We'd  have 
to  tell  mother." 

"  D'you  think  there'd  be  swords  and  pistols  as  well 
as  j  ewels,  so  that  we  could  be  pirates  ?  Perhaps  we  might 
find  the  pirate-ship  hidden  under  the  jungle  in  one  of 
the  creeks,  with  all  the  cannons  in  her,  and  the  black  flag, 
with  the  skull  and  cross-bones.  And  it  would  all  be 
ours,  and  we  could  be  pirates." 

"  I  don't  think  we  should  find  that,"  said  Mac  doubt- 
fully ;  "  but  we  might.  But  generally  they  scuttled 
their  ships  so  that  the  men-of-war  shouldn't  take  them. 
Still,  we  might  find  one  sunk,  with  the  masts  sticking 
out  of  the  water,  and  we  might  let  down  a  rope,  with  a 
big  stone  on  it,  and  then  climb  down  the  rope  under  the 
water  into  the  cabin,  and  get  all  sorts  of  things." 

'*  How  could  we  get  to  the  lake,  Mac?"  Robin  asked. 
**  We  could  get  there,  couldn't  we  ?  It's  not  far  round 
the  bend  there,  is  it  ?" 

"  Dunno,"  said  Mac  ;  "  it's  not  so  easy  to  get  there, 
'cos  if  you  go  on  this  side,  you've  got  to  get  through  old 
Hampden's  garden,  and  he's  sure  to  spot  you  ;  and  if 

22 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

we  go  on  the  other  side,  the  ground's  all  preserved,  and 
old  Wyse's  keeper  would  collar  us.  And  if  we  try  to  go 
all  round  Hampden's  place  and  get  in  at  the  back,  it's 
such  a  beastly  fag.  And  we  don't  know  the  way,  either. 
But  I'm  not  afraid  of  its  being  haunted,"  he  added. 
"  I  asked  Dr.  Parkin,  and  he  said  that  ghosts  were  only 
imaginary." 

'*  I  know  how  we  could  get  to  the  lake,"  said  Robin — 
"  in  the  boat." 

"  No,  we  couldn't,"  said  Mac.  "  There's  the  mill — we 
can't  get  past  the  mill." 

"  Yes,  we  can,"  said  Robin.  '*  We'll  row  down  to  the 
mill,  and  we'll  try  and  get  hold  of  Jarge.  Jarge  is  down 
there,  carting  manure,  and  we'll  get  him  to  lend  us  the 
horse  a  minute,  and  we'll  fasten  the  horse  to  the  painter, 
and  haul  the  boat  past  the  mill,  and  put  her  in  on  the 
other  side." 

"  You'd  very  likely  knock  the  side  in,  dragging  her 
over  the  ground  like  that,"  Mac  answered.  "  She's  a 
rotten  old  tub." 

"  No,  I  shouldn't,"  said  Robin  ;  "  'cos  I  know  you 
put  rollers  under  the  boat,  and  the  boat  just  rolls 
along  on  them,  and  doesn't  touch  the  ground  ;  and  we 
can  use  those  old  fir-logs  for  rollers.  You  put  them  in 
as  she  goes  along.  We  saw  them  doing  it  once  at  Bride's 
Bay." 

*'  Come  along,"  said  Mac.  "  We'll  each  carry  down  a 
couple  of  logs,  and  then  We'll  bring  the  boat  down." 

When  they  got  to  the  mill-pond  they  found  Jarge 
sitting  on  the  ground,  with  his  back  to  a  stump,  smoking 
his  after-dinner  pipe.     Darby,  the  cart-horse,  was  switch- 

23 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

ing  flies  at  a  little  distance,    having    just    finished    his 
nose-bag.     Jarge  grinned  when  he  saw  the  boys. 

"  Where  be  gwine  now,  Master  Mac  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Jarge,'*  said  Mac,  as  he  dumped  out  the  rollers,  "  will 
you  lend  us  Darby  for  a  minute  ?" 

"  What  div'ee  want  with  Darby,  Master  Mac  ?"  Jarge 
asked,  with  some  suspicion. 

"  We  want  to  haul  the  boat  round  past  the  mill  and 
put  her  in  down  below,*'  said  Robin. 

"  You  woan't  be  able  to  row  below  the  mill,"  said 
Jarge.  "  The  halders  and  things  be  growed  so  thick. 
Better  keep  en  where  it  is.  Master  Mac.  There  be  no 
space  like,  not  to  row.  Look  how  the  halders  be  growed. 
You  can't  row  there." 

''  Oh  yes,  we  can,"  said  Mac.  ''  So  will  you,  Jarge  ? 
You  might.     It'd  be  awfully  decent  of  you  if  you  would." 

"  Well,  I  will  if  you  like.  Master  Mac.  But  I'll  only 
have  to  fetch  en  out  again.  Zook  yer,  Darby  !  Bring 
that  there  line.  Master  Robin.  How  shall  we  put  her  in 
on  the  other  side  ?     The  banks  be  steep,  not  like  here." 

"  There's  the  cows'  drinking-place  just  a  little  below. 
We  could  put  her  in  there,"  said  Robin,  who  had  thought 
of  this. 

Jarge  hitched  up  Darby  to  the  painter,  and  placed  the 
rollers  in  position.  He  cracked  his  whip  and  called. 
The  horse  strained  forward.  The  boat  slid  gracefully 
out  on  to  the  rollers.  "  You  keep  en  so  as  er  woan't  farl 
over,"  said  Jarge.  "  Zook  e  yur,  Bor.  Mind  out  of 
them^ant-mucks .  *  * 

"  Shove  in  the  rollers  in  front  of  her,"  said  Robin. 
"  Don't  let  her  fall  off." 

24 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

'*  I  say,"  said  Mac,  "  doesn't  she  simply  go  it  ?  It's 
like  the  Greeks  before  Troy.     Mind  the  gate,  Jarge." 

Old  Darby  doubled  up  the  incline  and  down  on  the 
other  side,  so  fast  that  the  boys  had  all  that  they  could  do 
to  keep  the  rollers  going. 

"  Jolly  hard  work,  I  call  it,"  said  Mac,  fanning  himself 
while  they  prepared  to  launch  the  boat  in  the  new  place. 
"  I  wonder  if  the  Greeks  ever  had  horses  to  pull  their 
boats  up.  I  say,  Jarge,  thank  you  for  doing  it  for  us. 
Isn't  Jarge  awfully  decent,  Robin  ?  He's  always  doing 
something  for  us." 

"  Jarge  is  a  brick,"  said  Robin. 

Jarge  grinned,  and  watched  them  as  they  got  into  the 
boat. 

"  I  told  ee,  Master  Mac,  how  it'd  be.  'Ow  be  yer 
gwine  to  get  under  all  them  halders  ?  You  can't  row 
thur,  owsomever." 

"  Oh,  we'll  manage,  Jarge,"  the  boys  answered.  They 
took  out  their  oars  and  shoved  off. 

Jarge  turned  away  back  to  his  work  with  Darby.  "  I 
wonder  what  prank  them  young  devils  be  up  to,"  he 
muttered.  Turning  round  at  the  gate,  he  saw  that  they 
were  already  out  of  sight  under  the  thickly-leaved  alder- 
boughs.  "  They  be  just  about  the  odds  and  ends  of  a 
pair,  Master  Mac  and  Master  Robin,"  he  muttered. 


25 


Chapter  III 


N  the  lower  reach  the  boat  brushed 
her  way  along  under  the  alder- 
boughs.  There  was  no  chance  of 
rowing.  The  two  boys  had  to 
crouch  down  and  pull  the  boat 
along  by  the  boughs.  The  river 
was  much  narrower  below  the  mill. 
It  was  so  narrow  for  the  first 
quarter-mile  that  in  many  places 
the  alder-boughs  of  one  bank  touched  those  of  the  bank 
opposite.  It  was  a  lonely  part  even  for  that  lonely 
river.  The  water-fowl,  which  went  cocking  silently  into 
the  cover  of  the  flags  as  the  boat  approached,  had  never 
seen  human  beings  so  near  at  hand.  "  It  must  be  jolly 
deep  here  in  this  narrow  part,"  said  Mac,  probing  with 
an  oar.  "  We  could  have  some  grand  diving  here,  if 
these  alders  were  away." 

"  Hush  !"  said  Robin.  **  Let's  pretend  we're  Sir 
Francis  Drake  going  to  surprise  the  Armada." 

"  It's  jolly  still  here,"  Mac  answered,  "  even  as  it  is. 
We  could  hide  here  for  days,  and  nobody  would  spot  us. 
I  vote  we  come  here  some  time  and  have  a  camp." 

By-and-by  the  river  broadened.  The  banks  at  the 
same  time  became  clear  of  alders.     The  boys  could  see 

26 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

well  ahead,  down  a  clear,  shallow,  rather  rapid  reach, 
in  which  a  few  weeds  broke  the  current  to  dancing 
ripples. 

"  I'm  glad  we're  out  of  those  alders,"  said  Mac.  '*  Now 
we  can  row.  I  say,  there's  a  strong  stream  here.  How 
are  we  to  get  back  ?" 

"  Never  mind  about  getting  back,"  said  Robin.  "  We 
aren't  there  yet.  We'll  always  be  able  to  get  the  boat 
back.  I  dare  say  Jarge'd  help  us.  There's  a  bridge  on 
ahead.  What  asses  we  were  never  to  come  this  way 
before  !" 

"  Pretend  the  bridge  is  a  rapid,  and  we're  about  to 
shoot  it,"  said  Robin.  "  We'll  have  to  crouch  down,  or 
we  won't  get  under.  I  never  knew  it  was  so  jolly  here. 
Isn't  old  Wyse  an  old  governor  to  preserve  like  he  does  ? 
What  does  he  want  with  his  beastly  birds  ?  I  say, 
there's  a  heron.  Shall  we  have  a  whang  at  her  as  we 
go  by  ?" 

However,  the  heron  had  met  these  boys  before.  She 
knew  the  main  facts  about  them,  and  desired  to  know  no 
more,  so  away  she  sailed.  The  boat  loitered  on  into  an 
apple  country,  full  of  trees  in  fruit,  on  both  sides  of  the 
water. 

"  These  must  be  old  Wyse's  apple-orchards,"  said 
Robin.  "  Dodge  down  and  let  her  drift.  There's  some 
governor  over  by  the  hedge.  We'll  be  stopped  if  we're 
spotted." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mac  ;  "  and  keep  her  close  under  the 
bank.  I  say,  isn't  it  like  Rube  the  Scout,  when  he  was 
in  the  canoe  and  he  heard  the  Red  Indians  talking  on 
the  bank  ?     Look  up,  Robin,  and  see  if  they've  seen  us." 

27 


A    Book    of    Discoveries 


**  Fm  not  going  to  look  up,"  said  Robin.  "  We  ought 
to  have  brought  some  branches  and  things  to  cover  our- 
selves with.     That's  what  Rube  did." 

"  They're  looking  this  way,"  said  Mac.  *'  But  I  don't 
think  they  could  see  us  except  by  a  fluke.  Bother ! 
Here  they  come.     Row,  Rob." 


3^,/" 


"  Some  governor  over  by  the  hedge." 

"No,  don't  be  an  ass  !"  said  Robin,  peeping.  "  They 
haven't  seen  us.  Look  there !  They're  not  coming 
this  way  at  all." 

They  drove  past  the  danger  into  a  shallow  pool,  where 
some  cows  were  resting  from  the  heat. 

28 


A    Book    of    Discoveries 

"  I  vote,  we  call  this  place  The  Lagoon,"  said  Robin. 
"  It's  just  like  a  lagoon,  except  that  lagoons  have  got 
alligators  in  them.  Wouldn't  an  alligator  jolly  well 
give  those  cows  toko  ?  I  vote  we  stay  here,  Mac.  We 
might  get  a  pot  at  a  kingfisher." 

*'  We  won't  stay  here,"  said  Mac.  **  It's  too  near  old 
Wyse's  place.  There's  Wyse  House.  It  was  besieged 
in  the  Civil  Wars.  You  can  sometimes  find  cannon-balls 
in  the  moat,  all  smashed  in  with  hitting  the  stones." 

"  Are  the  woods  ahead  of  us  Wyse's  ?"  said  Robin. 

"  No,"  said  Mac.  "  Old  Hampden's  got  the  land  on 
both  sides  just  below  old  Wyse's.  I  heard  the  Rector 
say  so.  I  say,  isn't  it  just  like  a  canyon  just  in  front 
of  us  .?" 

Indeed,  it  was  very  like  a  canyon.  The  banks  drew 
together  and  steepened.  They  were  covered  with  wood 
from  the  water  to  the  summit.  A  curve  of  the  stream 
took  the  boys  out  of  sight  of  Wyse's  into  the  heart  of 
the  gorge.  It  was  so  still  there  in  the  drowsy  heat  that 
the  only  noises  were  the  droning  of  the  yellow-hammers, 
the  slow,  plaintive  pipe  of  the  buUfinch,  and  the  dip  of 
the  oars  as  the  boys  paddled,  facing  the  bows,  like 
Indians  in  a  canoe.  They  did  not  like  to  talk.  The 
place  was  impressive.  It  was  new  to  them.  They  were 
looking  out  at  it  like  discoverers.  The  boys  laid  what 
they  called  their  "  trusty  Remingtons " — i.e.,  their 
catapults — beside  them,  in  case  an  Indian  should  steal 
down.  They  nudged  each  other  with  little  whispers. 
"  Isn't  this  stunning  ?" 

**  I  say,  look  out  for  an  otter." 

"  Mind  you  don't  lose  your  oar  if  you  lire." 

29 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

They  stole  on  through  the  gorge,  and  round  another 
curve  into  a  more  level,  more  densely  wooded  tract,  with 
a  heronry  on  one  hand  and  a  grove  of  Scotch  firs,  with 
flaming  boles  glowing  out  like  blood,  on  the  other.  The 
boys  had  never  seen  a  wilder  landscape.  On  in  front  of 
them  was  a  stretch  of  rapids,  with  a  deep  calm  channel 
at  one  side.  Paddling  hard,  with  their  hearts  in  their 
mouths,  they  shot  the  rapids  without  getting  upset. 
Then,  for  a  minute  or  two,  they  were  in  calm.  Ahead  of 
them,  a  spit  of  ground,  covered  densely  with  reeds, 
shimmering  and  bluish,  ran  out  to  meet  another  spit 
from  the  other  side.  The  two  spits,  with  the  reeds  upon 
them,  shut  the  river  into  a  narrow  compass.  The  boys 
paddled  on  to  the  break  in  the  bar,  wondering  what  lay 
beyond.  They  shot  through  the  opening  into  what 
seemed  to  them  an  inland  sea.  It  stretched  on  and  on 
before  them,  and  away  to  each  side,  blue  under  the  sky, 
ruffled  with  wind-ripples.  The  woods  ringed  it  in.  It 
was  shut  away  from  the  rest  of  the  world.  Nobody  was 
in  sight.  They  could  see  no  house  nor  any  smoke  of  a 
house.  It  was  as  lonely  a  spot  as  when  the  beavers  lodged 
there.  Far  away  down  the  lake,  in  the  wildest  part  of 
it,  a  little  island  stood  up.     It,  too,  was  covered  with  trees. 

"  I  say,"  said  Mac,  "  did  you  ever  see  such  a  place  ?" 

"No,"  said  Robin,  "  I  never  did.  Just  think  of  the 
birds'-nests.  There  goes  a  wild-duck.  Doesn't  he  stick 
out  his  neck  ?  I  say,  Mac,  if  we  only  had  a  gun  !  I  wish 
we  could  have  a  whang  at  somethijig." 

"  Better  not,"  said  Mac.  "  We're  too  easy  seen  here. 
We'll  see  if  we  can  find  a  creek  or  some  place  where  we 
can  hide  the  boat.     Let's  get  on  to  the  island." 

30 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  We  ought  to  mufifie  our  oars,"  said  Robin,  "  'cos 
sound  travels  like  billio  over  the  water.*' 

They  put  their  handkerchiefs  in  the  crutches  and 
paddled  on,  hugging  the  bank.  They  saw  no  sign  of 
anyone  on  either  shore.  Birds  called  from  among  the 
reeds.  One  or  two  foreign  water-birds,  with  strange, 
gay  feathers,  slid  in  and  out  of  the  alleys  between 
the  stalks.  They  seemed  to  have  no  fear  of  the  boys, 
only  a  sense  that  the  place  was  nicer  lonely.  They  were 
as  tame  as  farmers'  ducks.  One  of  them,  strangely 
ruffled,  tempted  the  boys  to  shoot,  but  the  bird  glided 
swiftly  into  the  thicket,  and  the  shot  struck  the 
reeds. 

"  We'd  better  get  to  the  island,"  said  Robin,  "  if 
we're  going  looking  for  treasure.  Besides,  we're  too 
open  here.     A  keeper  could  spot  us  a  mile  away." 

"  I  vote  we  land  among  the  reeds,  then,"  said  Mac  ; 
"  and  we  could  jolly  well  tweak  these  water-fowl.  I 
wonder  what  they're  called." 

"No,  let's  stay  in  the  lake,"  said  Robin.  "  It's  so 
like  explorers.  I  wish  we'd  got  real  paddles  instead  of 
these  oars.  Then  we  could  pretend  we  were  Red  Indians. 
I  say,  Mac,  we're  nearly  up  to  the  island  now.  Shall  we 
push  out  from  the  shore  now  ?" 

They  pushed  out  towards  the  island.  It  was  a  little 
hump  of  land  about  fifty  yards  across,  and  four  yards 
high  at  its  highest  part.  It  was  covered  with  a  dense 
undergrowth,  from  the  midst  of  which  a  few  great  trees 
rose.  "  Let's  see  if  there's  a  landing-place,"  said  Mac. 
"It  looks  a  jolly  difficult  place  to  get  ashore  on." 

"  Islands  generally  are,"  said  Robin,  "  because  of  the 

31 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

surf.     I  wonder  if  there's  any  surf  on  this  one.     Some 
surf  comes  up  so  suddenly." 

"  I  say,"  said  Mac,  "  do  you  really  think  this  is  a 
haunted  island  ?  It  looks  rather  haunted.  Do  you 
think  it's  safe  to  go  any  nearer  ?" 

"  But  if  it's  haunted,"  said  Robin,  "  that's  a  sign  that 
there's  treasure  on  it.  I  vote  we  try."  They  pushed 
in  a  few  strokes  more.  The  darkness  of  the  thicket, 
too  close  for  the  sun  to  pierce,  was  full  of  mystery.  It 
was  all  very  still  there — much  too  still  to  be  good.  The 
water  wapped  along  the  shore  as  the  wind  sent  it 
slapping.  The  thicket  shivered  a  little  and  fell  still. 
There  seemed  to  be  no  birds  in  that  island.  An  awe  of 
the  place  touched  the  boys  to  the  sense  that  they  were 
trespassing. 

"  I  don't  quite  like  it,"  said  Robin,  scanning  it. 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Mac.  **  But  isn't  that  a  creek  there,  on 
the  other  side  ?" 

**  Yes,"  said  Robin — "  a  little  creek  going  into  the 
island." 

The  boys  looked  at  each  other.  They  both  half  expected 
to  see  the  wreck  of  a  ship  lying  on  the  mud  there. 

"  Shall  we  go  in  ?"  said  Mac. 

"  Yes,"  Robin  whispered.  "  You  take  both  oars,  and 
I'll  have  my  catty  ready  in  case  anything  comes  out.  I 
say,  Mac,  do  you  think  there's  any  ghosts  on  the  island  ?" 

**  I  shouldn't  be  a  bit  surprised,"  said  Mac  ;  ''or,  per- 
haps, gipsies  would  have  a  camp,  and  capture  us  and 
sell  us.  It's  just  the  place  for  gipsies.  They  could  sally 
out,  and  poach,  and  perhaps  rob  people,  and  then  hide 
here  during  the  day." 

32 


A    Book    of    Discoveries 

"  Mac,"  said  Robin,  "  I  don't  think  there  can  be  gipsies 
here,  for  there  go  a  couple  of  birds." 

"  So  they  do,"  said  Mac.  "  Well,  that's  a  sign  it's  all 
right.  I  say,  Robin,  let's  creep  out  and  camp  here  one 
night,  and  fish,  and  have  what  we  catch  for  breakfast, 
and  perhaps  stay  a  day  or  two.  And  we  could  rig  up 
hammocks  between  the  trees." 

"  Mother  wouldn't  let  us,"  said  Robin  ;  ''  but  it  would 
be  grand  if  she  would.  Mac,  this  creek's  shallow  ;  we 
shall  have  to  pole  her  in." 

"  No,  we  shan't,"  said  Mac.  **  We'll  just  pull  her  in 
by  the  boughs.  Catch  hold  of  the  boughs  and  pull." 
The  boat's  nose  shoved  some  rotten  boughs  aside  as  it 
slid  up  the  gloomy  little  creek  into  the  heart  of  the 
island.  The  creek  was  a  sort  of  narrow  pocket,  three  or 
four  yards  across  at  the  broadest  part.  A  box-tree, 
grown  to  a  good  height,  blocked  one  side  of  it  with  a  dense, 
dusty  mass  of  little  leaves.  On  the  other  side  was  a 
weeping-willow,  with  branches  which  stretched  almost 
across  the  water.  The  boys  ran  the  boat  under  one  of 
the  branches,  tied  the  painter  to  it,  and  clambered  ashore 
along  it. 

**  Load  your  catty,"  said  Mac,  "  and  be  ready  to  fire 
at  the  slightest  sound.     Load  with  ball-cartridge." 

They  loaded  with  ball-cartridge.  They  cast  anxious 
glances  at  the  thicket  all  about  them.  They  listened  for  any 
sound  which  might  teach  them  what  lived  there.  There 
came  no  sound  except  the  flopping  of  the  ripples  along  the 
shore  and  the  rustling  of  leaves  aloft.     It  was  safe  enough. 

"  Mac,"  said  Robin,  "  whereabouts  would  the  treasure 
be  in  an  island  like  this  ?" 

33  c 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  Up  at  the  highest  point,"  said  Mac  ;  *'  or  down  on 
a  sandy  spit  is  a  good  place,  'cos  pirates  don't  Uke 
digging.  Look  out  for  a  mark  on  a  tree — a  skull  and 
cross-bones  mark.  It'll  be  on  an  old  tree,  and  the  bark 
will  be  swelled  over  it  a  bit.  And  we  may,  p'raps,  find 
a  skeleton  in  the  grass  to  point  the  way.  That's  what 
they  sometimes  put." 


34 


Chapter  IV 


was  a  sort  of  locker 


HEY  crept  over  the  island  to  the 
point  fronting  the  farther  shore. 
Here  they  made  a  discovery. 
Someone  had  dug  into  the  side 
of  the  island,  so  as  to  form  a 
shelter  a  little  bigger  than  a 
sentry-box.  The  place  was 
roofed  and  lined  with  corrugated 
iron,  now  stained  with  age.  There 
on  the  floor,  to  serve  as  a  seat. 
It  was  evidently  a  lookout  place.  A  man  sitting  there 
could  scan  the  greater  half  of  the  lake.  But  why,  the  boys 
asked,  should  one  have  to  watch  on  that  side?  What 
enemies  lived  over  there,  in  the  woods  across  the  lake  ? 

"  Whoever  it  was,  it  must  be  a  long  time  ago,'*  said 
Mac. 

**  The  ground  isn't  trodden.  And  look  how  the  plants 
are  coming  in.  Nobody's  been  here  for  ciges.  Perhaps  he 
was  shipwrecked,  and  used  to  come  here  to  look  out." 

"  P'raps,"  said  Robin.  "  But  look  here  ;  the  top  of 
this  seat  is  loose,  so  as  to  make  a  sort  of  box  underneath. 
Let's  lift  it." 

"  It  comes  right  off,"  said  Mac.  "  What's  underneath  ? 
Off  she  comes  !" 

35 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

They  lifted  a  decaying  plank,  slimy  underneath,  and 
furrowed  with  rot  into  beds  for  slugs.  Under  it  was  a 
receptacle  in  which  a  few  wood-lice,  surprised  by  the 
light,  slowly  crawled  to  shelter. 

"  What's  the  heap  in  the  comer  ?  It  looks  like  cloth 
of  some  sort."  He  groped  with  a  hand,  and  pulled  out 
his  find.  It  was  a  mouldy  old  bit  of  rag,  which  had  once 
been  blue.  It  was  difficult  to  say  what  it  had  been — per- 
haps some  sort  of  clothes.  There  was  nothing  else  in  the 
box  except  a  rusty  fish-hook,  still  attached  to  salmon-gut. 
Both  objects  might  have  been  there  for  years. 

"  Look  about,"  said  Mac  ;  "we  may  find  something 
else.     Let's  lift  the  seat  and  look  under  it." 

This  they  could  not  do,  for  the  wood  was  sunk  into  the 
ground.     They  could  see  no  other  relic. 

"  I  wonder  where  he  slept,"  said  Robin.  "  Robinson 
Crusoe  slept  up  a  tree  the  first  night.  But  I  expect  this 
man  had  a  stockade  somewhere,  or  slept  in  a  hammock 
between  two  trees." 

"  We'll  go  on  into  the  thicket  behind  the  house,"  said 
Mac.  "  Perhaps  we  shall  find  something  there.  You 
look  out  to  the  left.     I'll  look  out  to  the  right." 

They  handled  their  catties,  and  plunged  into  the 
thicket. 

Twenty  yards  farther  on,  at  the  very  top  of  the  island, 
they  came  upon  a  boulder  of  rock  as  big  as  a  dinner- 
table.  They  clambered  up  to  the  top  of  it,  hoping  to  get 
a  good  view ;  but  the  trees  were  too  thick  :  they  couldn't 
see  much.  They  found  two  other  relics  here,  though. 
An  old,  weather-beaten,  much-burned  pipe,  with  a 
deeply  bitten  mouthpiece,  lay  on  the  very  top  of  the 

36 


Pfr- 


^f^^ 


S,/J^    ^'  ^^ 


^-^^^^■^ 


m 


I' 


'i^'fO^'X. 


1^ 


"  A  shelter  a  little  bigger  than  a  sentry-box." 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

rock.  Below  the  rock,  in  a  hollow,  was  a  round  iron 
ring,  with  curious  grooved  back.  It  was  the  cringle  of 
a  sail,  but,  as  the  boys  had  never  seen  such  a  thing  before, 
they  were  much  puzzled  by  it.  They  took  both  pipe 
and  cringle  as  spoils  of  the  day.  They  felt  that  they 
were  on  the  point  of  great  discoveries. 

"  Hush  a  minute !"  said  Robin.  "  Did  you  hear 
that  ?" 

''  What  was  it  ?" 

**  Listen  !  Now  it's  gone.  Why  didn't  you  keep 
quiet  ?" 

*'  Hush  !  Hark  !"  A  sort  of  whisper  of  sound  came 
to  them  from  the  other  side  of  the  island. 

"  It  sounded  like  a  splash,"  said  Mac.  "  Is  that  what 
you  heard  ?" 

"  A  sort  of  a  splash.  Let's  listen  a  minute.  It  may 
sound  again."  They  listened  attentively  for  a  minute, 
but  heard  no  more. 

"  What  was  it,  d'you  suppose  ?"  said  Robin.  "  Could 
it  be  old  Hampden  coming  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Mac  ;  "  but  I  know  what  it  may  have 
been.     It  may  have  been  a  fish  leaping." 

"  That's  a  sign  of  rain,  isn't  it  ?"  said  Robin.  "  We'd 
best  be  skating  back  home." 

"  You're  afraid,"  said  Mac.  He  was  a  little  afraid 
himself. 

"  I'm  not,"  said  Robin.  "  I'm  not  at  all  afraid."  He 
listened  attentively,  till  some  nearer  noise  reassured 
him  :  a  twig  fell.  "  I  know  what  the  noise  was,"  he 
said.  "  It  was  a  bit  of  dead  branch  falling  into  the 
water." 

39 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  Shall  we  just  go  back  and  make  sure  ?"  said  Mac, 
anxious  to  test  the  strength  of  Robin's  conviction. 

"  No,"  said  Robin.  "  Fm  sure  it  was  nothing.  It 
couldn't  have  been  anything  else." 

"  I  don't  think  it  was  anything,  either,"  said  Mac. 
"  Well,  come  on,  then.  We'll  go  all  round  along  the 
edge  of  the  island.     I  vote  we  do.     What  do  you  say  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Robin,  "  we  will.     You've  got  the  pipe  ?" 

They  pushed  on  from  the  boulder  towards  the  water. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Mac,  "  that  this  wood  has  been 
cleared  at  one  time.  Look  how  potty  the  things  are  just 
here." 

They  forced  their  way  through  a  tangle  of  brushwood 
to  the  edge  of  the  island. 

"  I  say,"  said  Mac,  "  there's  another  creek.  Just  climb 
up  here  over  these  rocks.  But  go  easy,  'cos  we're  in 
sight  here  from  the  other  side." 

When  they  had  clambered  up  to  the  top  of  the  rocks 
they  saw  that  the  new  creek  was  a  little  narrow  harbour, 
evidently  six  or  seven  feet  deep.  The  sides  had  once 
been  levelled,  but  they  were  overgrown  now,  like  the  rest 
of  the  place.  A  flat  stone,  like  a  paving-stone,  was  clear 
of  grass  in  one  part.  Perhaps  all  the  edge  of  the  creek 
had  once  been  paved.  This  one  stone  remained  above- 
sod  to  tell  of  the  past. 

"  I  say,"  said  Robin,  "  it's  been  a  little  harbour;  and 
there's  been  a  quay  all  round  it.     Look  here  !" 

"  But  look  at  the  water,"  said  Mac.  "  It's  deep,  and 
clear  of  weed,  and  there's  a  stunning  dive  off  the  stone. 
D'you  think  it's  safe  ?     Shall  we  bathe  ?" 

"  We  could  be  seen  from  the  other  side,"  said  Robin. 

40 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 


"  But,  then,  I  don't  see  how  they're  to  catch  us.  I  vote 
we  do  bathe.  Only,  how  about  drying  ?  We'll  have 
to  use  our  shirts  for  drying." 

They  bathed.  WTiile  they  were  drying  (which  they 
did  mostly  in  the  sun)  they  wondered  who  had  made 
the  place.  It  had  been  made  long  ago,  and  then  de- 
serted ;    but  whether  the  Phoenicians  had  made  it  in 


"  They  saw  that  the  new  creek  was  a  little  narrow  harbour." 

their  search  for  tin,  or  whether  the  pirates  had  made  it 
as  a  hiding-place,  the  boys  could  not  be  sure.  There 
was  not  much  to  tell  them  either  way  except  the  paving- 
stone.  Searching  about  for  evidence  of  the  builders, 
the  boys  saw  something  gleam  far  down  under  the 
water.  They  could  not  see  what  it  was.  It  gleamed, 
and  then  seemed  to  move  sideways  as  the  water  moved ; 

41 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

then  it  gleamed  again  quickly,  a  silvery  something.  They 
craned  their  heads  over  the  quay.  They  could  not  see 
what  it  was.  It  was  a  gleaming  thing,  perhaps  as  big 
as  a  saucer.  The  question  arose,  Was  it  the  lid  of  a  tin 
or  a  silver  ingot  ?     Who  could  tell  ? 

"  It  can't  be  tin,"  said  Mac,  "  because  tin  would  be 
rusty.  It  must  be  silver  ;  or  perhaps  it's  some  old  kind 
of  patent  tin  the  Phoenicians  or  pirates  had.  And  it  may 
have  writing  on  it,  or  signs  where  to  get  the  treasure. 
I  vote  we  try  to  get  it  up  and  see." 

"  How  are  we  to  get  it  up  ?"  said  Robin.  "  It's  a 
good  five  feet  down.     We  couldn't  dive  to  it." 

"  No,"  said  Mac.  "  But  I  know  what.  We  could  tie 
a  stone  to  the  painter,  and  let  it  down  to  the  bottom, 
and  then  climb  down  it,  like  the  divers  do." 

"  We  might  do  that,"  said  Robin  doubtfully,  fearing 
that  he  would  be  selected  for  the  job.  "  But  I  know 
what  would  be  better.  Get  an  oar  and  jab  it  out.  It's 
probably  only  caught  in  something.  And  if  we  jabbed 
it  out,  we  could  get  it  without  going  in." 

"  Well,  get  the  oars,  then,"  said  Mac. 

"  All  right,"  said  Robin.  "  But  you  come,  too,  'cos 
supposing  there's  any  danger  ?" 

When  they  had  finished  dressing,  they  loaded  again 
with  ball-cartridge,  and  set  off  to  the  boat,  taking  care 
to  go  another  way  than  the  way  they  had  come.  They 
had  read  somewhere  that  that  was  what  the  Indians,  or 
perhaps  even  wild  animals,  did,  lest  an  enemy  should  be 
following  the  tracks  made  by  them  in  coming.  Their 
new  way  led  them  along  the  south  shore  of  the  island, 
in  sight  of  the  end  of  the  lake.     The  island  was  reedy  on 

42 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

its  south  shore.  It  sloped  gradually  away  into  shallow 
water,  which  was  both  muddy  and  weedy.  The  boys 
found  some  fresh-water  shells  in  the  mud  of  this  shore. 
Mac  made  a  rough  map  of  the  island  in  his  pocket-book, 
taking  the  compass  bearings  from  the  sun  by  the  help  of 
his  watch.  While  he  was  drawing,  an  old  dog-otter 
slipped  into  the  water  just  under  their  noses. 

"  I  say,"  said  Mac,  "  aren't  the  things  tame  ?  Why 
didn't  you  have  a  whang  at  him  ?" 

"  I  won't  whang  at  an  otter.  There  aren't  many  of 
them.  I  know  what  we'll  do  when  we  get  home.  We'll 
make  a  big  map  of  the  island,  and  paint  in  the  different 
bays  and  things.  And  then  we'll  come  here  some  other 
time  and  make  soundings,  and  write  in  how  deep  the 
water  is,  and  then  have  pictures  of  ships  on  it,  like  in 
the  map  in  '  Treasure  Island.'  What  fun  it  would  be  if 
we  had  a  cannon  !  I  believe  I  could  hit  that  tree  there 
with  a  cannon  from  here." 

"  It's  not  so  easy  as  you  think  to  shoot  with  a  cannon," 
said  Mac,  "  especially  an  old  cannon.  Hardly  any 
cannon-balls  hit  people.  I  asked  old  Billy  Porter.  He 
was  in  the  Crimea.  He  said  a  battle  was  one  of  the 
safest  places  a  man  could  be  in." 

"  I  expect  he  was  only  yarning,"  said  Robin.  **  He's 
always  yarning,  old  Billy  is.  He's  the  biggest  yamer 
there  is.  He's  always  yarning.  I  wonder,  would  a 
cannon  recoil  very  much  if  we  tied  the  painter  to  it  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Mac.  "  Billy  says  it  takes  two 
years  to  learn  how  to  shoot  with  a  cannon.  We'll  go  on 
now  and  get  that  oar." 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Robin,  as  they  burst  through  the 

43 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

bushes  to  the  creek,  "  if  that  thing  in  the  water  really 
is  a  silver  ingot.  I  s'pose  if  it  is  we  should  have  to  melt 
it  down/* 

"  I  say,"  said  Mac,  cutting  in  upon  his  brother,  "is 
this  our  creek  ?     Yes,  it  is.     Where's  the  boat  gone  ?" 


" '  A  battle  was  one  of  the  safest  places  a  man  could  be  in.' " 

"  The  boat's  gone  !" 

True  enough,  the  creek  was  empty.  The  boat  had 
gone.  The  boys  stood  dumbfounded.  What  could  have 
happened  to  it  ? 

*'  Could  it  have  broken  loose  ?"  said  Mac. 

"  No,"  said  Robin  ;  "  it  must  have  been  taken.     The 

44 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

painter  was  tied  quite  tight.  I  gave  it  a  good  yank,  to 
make  sure." 

"  Could  anybody  have  been  on  the  island  all  the  time  ?" 
It  was  an  uncomfortable  thought.  It  gave  them  both  a 
thrill. 

"  That  must  have  been  the  splash  we  heard." 

**  No,"  Mac  added,  after  thinking  for  a  while  ;  "I 
don't  think  he  could  have  been  on  the  island.  There 
are  no  tracks.  Look  here  !  He  could  only  have  got  at 
the  boat  from  this  side,  and  these  marks  on  the  soil  are 
made  by  us.  You  see  ?  That's  where  we  trod.  No 
one  else  has  been  here.     Someone's  come  by  water." 

"  That  means,"  said  Robin,  "  that  old  Hampden's 
spotted  us,  and  sent  his  keeper." 

"  He  hasn't  got  a  keeper." 

"  It  might  be  some  gipsy  or  highwayman,  who  lives  in 
the  woods  there." 

"  I  say,  what  shall  we  do  ?"  said  Mac.  "  We're  shut 
up  on  the  island.     How  are  we  to  get  off  ?" 

"  I  s'pose  we  couldn't  swim,"  said  Robin.  "  It's 
rather  far  to  swim.  And  then,  if  we  swum,  we  should 
have  to  leave  our  clothes  behind.  And  even  when  we 
get  ashore,  we  shan't  be  able  to  pass  old  Hampden. 
And  how  about  the  boat  ?  We  can't  leave  the  boat 
behind." 

"  We'll  creep  down  to  the  shore  to  see  if  we  can  see 
the  boat,"  said  Mac.  '*  Come  down  to  the  edge,  and  peep 
through  the  bushes." 

After  working  through  the  scrub  to  the  edge  of  the 
lake,  they  gently  put  aside  the  bushes.  They  peeped 
through  at  the  mainland  fronting  them.     An  army  in 

45 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

position  might  have  been  waiting  in  the  woods  there,  for 
all  the  boys  could  tell.  They  saw  nothing  but  the  wood, 
the  saucy  water,  and  the  swaying  of  the  leaves  under  the 
wind.  There  was  no  trace  of  any  living  thing.  Even 
the  birds  seemed  to  have  gone.  Yet  somewhere  in  that 
mystery  their  boat  was  hidden,  and  there,  too,  was  the 
unknown  thief  who  alone  could  help  them  off  the  island. 

"  No  sign  there,"  said  Mac.  "  But  he  must  be  some- 
where there.  He  is  a  mean  spess  to  come  and  bag  our 
boat.     I  wonder  if  we  could  make  a  raft." 

"  We  might  find  a  log  or  two  which  would  float,"  said 
Robin  dejectedly.  He  had  not  much  faith  in  rafts. 
They  had  tried  to  make  a  raft  once  before,  and  it  had 
been  a  most  dismal  failure.  Still,  a  raft  was  better  than 
dying  of  starvation  on  the  island.  They  grubbed  about 
among  the  bushes  for  about  twenty  minutes,  but  found 
no  logs  likely  to  float. 

"  We  want  an  axe  and  rope,  really,"  said  Mac  gloomily. 
"  What  asses  we  were  not  to  stay,  one  of  us,  as  a  boat- 
guard,  while  the  other  explored.  What  are  we  to  do 
now  ?  We  might  try  to  swim  it.  I  dare  say  he's  watch- 
ing us  all  the  time.  I  dare  say  he'd  be  decent  over  it  if 
he  saw  us  try  to  swim  it." 

"  I  heard  the  Rector  say  once,"  said  Robin,  "  that  old 
Hampden's  awfully  down  on  trespassers.  And  we've  got 
our  catties,  too  ;  and  we  were  whanging  at  his  precious 
birds.  I  dare  say  he  saw  that.  What  d'you  think  he'll 
do  to  us  ?" 

"  I  suppose  he'll  prosecute  us.  And  mother  *11  take 
the  boat  from  us,  and  we'll  be  in  hot  water  till  we  go 
back  to  school." 

46 


JV- 


"  Each  holding  a  flag  of  truce. 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

**  What  shall  we  get,  if  we're  prosecuted  ?"  Robin 
asked.  *'  They  send  the  governors  to  gaol.  Dick  True- 
fitt  got  a  month,  just  for  going  after  a  rabbit." 

"  I  s'pose  there  are  no  rabbits  here,"  said  Mac,  **  'cos 
we  may  have  to  stay  some  time,  and  I  don't  know  what 
else  there  is  to  eat,  unless  we  could  catch  a  fish  with  that 
fish-hook.  We  could  use  the  wool  of  our  stockings  for 
line,  I  s'pose,  and  there's  plenty  of  slugs  and  things  for 
bait." 

"  I  don't  think  we'll  be  able  to  stay  here,"  said 
Robin.  "  We  can't  let  mother  worry  about  us.  She'd 
think  we  were  drowned.  We'll  have  to  swim  for  it, 
and  chance  it." 

"  No,"  said  Mac  ;  "  it  isn't  safe  to  try  to  swim  it.  He's 
got  us  this  time.  I  shan't  let  you  swim  it.  We  must 
put  out  a  flag  of  truce.  We'll  cut  a  long  stick  from  the 
willow  and  tie  a  handkerchief  to  it,  and  perhaps  light  a 
fire,  so  as  to  make  a  smoke." 

"  Mother '11  be  in  an  awful  wax,"  said  Robin. 

"  So'll  old  Hampden,"  said  Mac.  "  I  vote,  if  it's  old 
Hampden  himself,  we'll  just  tell  hkn  everything,  and  give 
him  up  our  catties.  He  might  let  us  oif  if  we  told  him 
everything.  Now  I'll  get  the  sticks,  and  we'll  wave 
down  there,  opposite  where  we  were  bathing." 

A  few  minutes  later  the  two  boys  were  standing  dis- 
consolately by  the  reed-bed,  each  holding  a  flag  of  truce. 
They  waved  for  some  time,  and  shouted.  A  strange- 
looking  boat  emerged  suddenly  from  among  the  reeds 
of  the  farther  shore.  She  advanced  towards  them  with- 
out apparent  means  of  propulsion.  She  had  neither  sail, 
oars,  nor  steam.     A  man  sat  in  the  stern-sheets,  steering 

49  ° 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

with  a  tiller.  The  little  boat  stood  out  and  faced  the 
boys.     The  man  in  her  pointed. 

"  He  means  us  to  go  to  the  other  side  of  the  island/' 
said  Mac.  "  I  suppose  he  wants  us  to  go  round  to  that 
harbour  place.  Is  that  old  Hampden  ?  It  doesn't  look 
like  a  governor." 

"  I  think  it's  old  Hampden,"  said  Robin.  "  But  I 
can't  see  under  that  hat  of  his.  I  suppose  that's  one  of 
these  motor-boats.     Doesn't  it  go  along  smoothly  ?" 

"  Yes,  it  does,"  said  Mac  gloomily.  "  But  we'd  better 
not  talk  of  that  now.  We  mustn't  keep  him  waiting. 
We're  in  for  it,  anyway.  We'll  only  make  it  worse  if 
we  make  a  fuss." 

They  crossed  the  island  to  the  bathing-place,  feeling 
their  hearts  sink  a  little  lower  at  each  step.  Going  to 
the  head  to  be  swished  was  a  pantomime  to  this.  There 
you  knew  what  to  expect.  But  to  go  before  old  Hampden, 
whom  everybody  believed  to  be  mad,  and  to  have  to  sit 
with  him  in  the  boat,  and  walk  with  him  up  to  the  house, 
to  a  punishment  which  might  be  gaol,  or,  for  all  they 
knew,  a  public  birching,  was  worse  than  being  expelled. 
They  stood  disconsolately  on  the  grass  of  the  quay, 
waiting  for  their  gaoler.  They  heard  the  boat  come 
nearer  and  nearer,  with  a  little  noise  of  throb  and  bubble. 
She  made  a  curve  at  the  harbour-mouth,  and  glided 
gently  alongside  the  quay,  where  the  man  in  the  panama 
hat  promptly  hooked  her  to  a  ring.  Looking  down 
gloomily,  Robin  saw  the  silvery  thing  gleaming  again, 
as  it  caught  the  sunlight.  He  determined  that  he  would 
never  again  bother  about  what  pirates  did.  They  might 
leave  their  treasure  where  they  pleased,  for  all  he  cared. 

50 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

He  lifted  his  eyes  shamefacedly  to  the  man's  face.  Mac 
was  standing  on  one  leg,  digging  the  toe  of  the  other  foot 
into  the  ground,  as  was  his  way  under  strong  emotion. 
The  man's  face  was  a  set  blank.  The  worst  of  it  was,  he 
never  spoke.  He  just  sat  there  impassive,  waiting.  It 
was  old  Hampden,  sure  enough.  Much  good  might  it 
do  them  ! 


51 


Chapter  V 


LEASE,  sir,*'  said  Mac  brokenly, 
''  we're  very  sorry.  We  came 
trespassing  into  your  lake,  and 
had  a  shot  at  your  birds  with 
catties.  Here  are  our  catties, 
sir.  And  please,  sir,  the  boat 
isn't  ours.  It  belongs  to  Mr. 
Pile.  Mother  only  hires  it  from 
him." 
They  gave  up  their  catties.  Mr.  Hampden  put  them 
on  the  seat  beside  him.  The  boys  waited  for  him  to 
speak.  He  didn't  speak.  He  just  looked  grim.  He 
looked  at  them  one  at  a  time  till  their  eyes  fell.  Mac 
began  another  speech.  He  got  as  far  as  "  Please,  sir"  ; 
but  here  his  voice  failed  him.  He  continued  to  scratch 
the  ground  with  his  toe.  Mr.  Hampden  pointed  to  a  seat 
in  the  boat's  bows,  in  a  way  which  told  the  boys  that 
they  were  to  get  in.  They  got  in.  Mr.  Hampden  knocked 
the  hook  from  the  ring,  and  turned  a  little  wheel.  The 
engine  began  to  work.  A  turn  of  the  hand  brought  the 
boat  out  into  the  lake.  In  twenty  seconds  more  she 
was  past  the  point  of  the  island,  and  standing  in  to  the 
main.  The  boys'  hearts  could  hardly  sink  lower.  They 
felt  them,  as  it  were,  knock  at  the  bottom  during  this 

52 


"  '  Please,  sir,  we're  very  sorry.'  ' 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

passage.  Whenever  they  dared  to  look  up,  they  met 
Mr.  Hampden's  eyes,  set  and  stern.  Then  they  would 
look  down  again,  or  perhaps  glance  at  each  other,  or  cast 
a  hopeless  glance  at  the  land.  They  were  standing  in 
towards  a  bed  of  reeds,  which  seemed  to  stretch  for  some 
distance  inland.  As  they  drew  nearer  to  the  reeds,  the 
boys  saw  that  there  was  a  single  narrow  opening  in  them. 
The  boat  entered  this,  sped  up  it,  between  the  tall, 
shivering  stems,  turned  sharply,  and  entered  a  pond,  at 
the  end  of  which  there  was  a  boat-house.  To  the  two 
wretched  boys  it  seemed  very  big  for  a  boat-house. 
Just  inside  it,  as  they  could  see,  was  their  famous  boat, 
the  Revenge,  now  a  prize  of  war  in  the  enemy's  dockyard. 

The  motor-boat  slid  past  her  into  her  berth  in  the  boat- 
house.  The  boys  got  out.  Mr.  Hampden  secured  the 
boat  and  looked  at  his  watch.  "  Half-past  three,"  he 
muttered.     He  turned  to  the  boys. 

**  What  were  you  boys  doing  ?"  he  said  sharply. 

"  Exploring,  sir,"  said  Mac. 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  Robin,  "  we  wanted  to  see  where 
the  river  went." 

Mr.  Hampden  grunted.  He  was  very  terrifying  when 
he  grunted.  He  snapped  the  catties  at  the  forks,  and 
dropped  them  into  the  water. 

*'  Can't  have  cruelty,"  he  said.  '*  So  you  were  ex- 
ploring.    Are  you  interested  in  exploring  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Mac. 

"  What  sort  of  exploring  ?" 

This  was  rather  a  hard  question  to  answer.  Mac  could 
only  answer  :  "  Boat-exploring,  and  what  the  pirates  did." 

*'  What   the   pirates   did  ?"   said   Mr.   Hampden.     "  I 

55 


A    Book    of  Discoveries 

thought  the  pirates  cut  people's  throats,  and  stole.  Is 
that  what  interests  you  ?'* 

"No,  sir,"  said  Mac.  "  I  mean  going  about  and 
living  on  islands." 

"  I  thought  they  lived  on  ships,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  Robin,  '*  they  lived  on  islands 
sometimes,  'cos  they  had  to  bury  their  treasure."  Mac 
gave  Robin  a  vicious  glance,  to  tell  him  to  shut  up,  and 
not  to  be  an  ass. 

**  Are  you  fond  of  raspberries  ?"  said  Mr.  Hampden 
suddenly.  The  boys  trembled.  They  feared  he'd  gone 
mad  suddenly. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Mac,  remembering  that  it  was  wise 
to  humour  madmen.  He  glanced  again  at  Robin,  whose 
lips  were  moving. 

"  Dotty  old  fool  !"  were  the  words  in  Robin's  heart. 

Mr.  Hampden  led  the  way  out  of  the  boat-house  and 
up  the  wood  to  a  walled  garden,  which  he  opened  to 
them. 

"  Here  are  some  raspberries,"  he  said.  "  If  you  look 
in  the  tool-shed  there  you'll  find  a  basket.  We'll  pick 
some  for  tea.     The  white  ones  over  there  are  the  best." 

The  raspberry-bushes  were  so  full  of  fruit  that  they 
soon  filled  the  basket.  They  carried  the  spoil  down  to 
the  boat-house.  Mr.  Hampden  took  out  a  key  and  un- 
locked the  door  of  a  one  -  storied  shed  which  stood 
near  by. 

"  Come  in,"  he  said  kindly.  *'  We'll  have  tea  in  the 
work-room.     Are  you  explorers  fond  of  ships  ?" 

The  boys  looked  at  each  other,  hardly  knowing  what 
to  say.     They  were  still  a  little  afraid  that  the  man  was 

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mad.  The  chance  that  they  were  not  to  be  prosecuted 
made  their  hearts  leap  ;  but  still,  there  was  their  boat 
to  get  back,  and  the  trespass  to  be  explained.  And  this 
queer  man  was  acting  queerly.  They  went  into  the  shed 
with  grave  misgivings. 

The  inside  of  the  shed  was  a  well-lit,  cheery  work- 
room, about  thirty  feet  long  by  twenty  broad.  The 
walls  were  lined  with  matchboarding.  The  floor  was 
covered  by  a  neat  straw  matting  of  a  very  fine  web. 
There  were  big,  comfortable,  cushioned  seats  at  all  the 
windows,  At  one  end  of  the  room  was  a  long,  solid  work- 
table,  with  a  rack  of  tools  underneath  it,  ready  to  hand. 
At  the  other  end  was  a  writing-table,  on  which  stood  a 
microscope-case,  a  few  books,  writing  things,  and  a  big 
open  folio  manuscript  book,  about  half  written.  But 
what  struck  the  boys  most  was  a  wall -shelf  which  ran 
all  round  the  room,  about  four  feet  from  the  floor.  It 
was  covered  with  models  of  ships  of  all  kinds,  some  of 
them  under  sail ;  some  of  them  with  sails  furled  ;  some 
with  oars  ;  and  one  of  them,  a  long  shining  one,  which 
seemed  to  be  of  silver,  with  funnels,  to  show  that  she  was 
a  steamer.  Their  hulls  were  gaily  painted.  There  were 
little  bright  guns  on  some  of  them.  Most  of  them  had 
flags  flying.  Generally,  they  were  not  flags  known  to  the 
boys. 

"  So  you  think  Fm  a  mad  old  fool,"  said  Mr.  Hampden, 
catching  hold  of  Robin's  shoulder.  It  was  exactly  what 
Robin  had  thought,  and  the  discovery  was  shocking  to 
him. 

**  No,  sir,"  he  stammered. 

*'  Not  ?"  said  Mr.  Hampden — "  not  quite  mad  ?    Only 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

a  little  queer  ?  And  wh  t  do  you  think  of  it  ?  Your 
name  is  Mr.  Mac,  I  believe  ?" 

''  Please,  sir,"  said  Mac,  "  we  were  afraid  you  would 
send  us  to  gaol." 

"  What  good  would  that  do  you  ?"  he  asked.  "  Do 
you  think  it  would  cure  you  ?  Make  you  give  up  making 
catties  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Mac,  getting  courage. 

'*  Then  what  sense  would  there  be  in  sending  you  to 
gaol  ?     Do  you  want  to  go  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  the  boys  answered. 

"  Much  better  stay  here  and  have  some  tea,"  said  Mr. 
Hampden.  "  But  you'll  have  to  work.  You  " — here 
he  turned  to  Robin — "  what's  your  name  ?  Robin  ? — 
Robbin'  Hen-roosts,  or  Robbin'  Birds'-nests,  or  Robbin' 
Mail-bags  ?  What  !  None  of  them  ?  Plain  Robin  Red- 
breast ?  Well !  Be  off  with  you,  and  get  some  dry 
sticks.  They're  in  the  locker  outside.  Can  you  lay  a 
fire,  Mac  ?  There's  a  newspaper,  and  here  are  matches  ; 
and  here's  Robin  Redbreast  with  the  sticks.  Robin,  the 
kettle's  in  the  locker  under  the  seventy-four  there. 
Mac,  you've  laid  the  fire.  The  spring's  just  behind  the 
house.  It  runs  into  a  big  stone  trough  there.  I'll  lay 
the  table  while  you  fill  the  kettle  and  set  it  to  boil. 
Robin  Redbreast,  the  larder's  the  locker  underneath 
the  torpedo-boat.  Just  hand  the  things  out,  will 
you  ?" 

Presently  they  sat  down  to  a  very  jolly  tea  of  rasp- 
berries, chocolate  biscuits,  plum-cake,  and  scrambled 
eggs.  Mr.  Hampden  showed  them  how  to  scramble  eggs, 
and  how   to   whisk   omelettes.     They   enjoyed   the   tea 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

immensely.  They  found  that  Mr.  Hampden  was  very 
far  from  being  mad. 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  Mac,  at  the  end  of  tea,"  will  you 
tell  us  what  all  your  ships  are  for  ?" 

**  My  ships  ?"  he  said.  "  I  wanted  to  know  what  sort 
of  ships  the  people  sailed  in  long  ago — I  mean  the  people 
who  interested  me — the  explorers,  Columbus  and  the 
others." 

"  Will  you  tell  us  where  you  got  them,  sir  ?"  Robin 
asked. 

"  Got  them  !"  he  exclaimed.  "  I  didn't. get  them.  I 
made  them  myself." 

"  Oh,  sir  !" 

"  You  are  great  explorers,"  Mr.  Hampden  said.  "  I 
think  I  must  make  a  model  of  your  ship.  What  is  your 
ship  called  ?     The  Saucy  Polly  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Mac.     "  We  generally  call  her  the  Little 

Revenge.     But    sometimes    we    call    her    the "     He 

stopped,  a  little  ashamed. 

"  The  what  ?"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 

"  The  Pirate  s  Bride,  sir,"  said  Robin.  Mac  kicked  him 
under  the  table  for  being  an  ass. 

"  Oh,  indeed  !"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  The  Pirate  s 
Bride.  A  very  pretty  name,  too.  Come  on  down  to 
my  dockyard,  and  I'll  show  you  where  I  try  my 
models." 

He  led  them  down  through  a  thick  stretch  of  wood  to 
a  deep,  land-locked  pool,  fifty  yards  across,  which 
branched  off  at  right  angles  from  the  lake.  The  land 
about  the  pool  was  low  ahd  treeless.  It  was  rocky,  with 
sparse  grass  in  the  earthy  bits.     At  the  lake  end  of  the 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

pool  a  few  rocks  rose  from  the  water.  On  the  side  on 
which  the  boys  stood  was  a  small  wooden  landing-stage, 
to  which  a  curious  kind  of  box-like,  bcisket-like  boat  was 
moored. 

"  D'you  know  what  that  boat  is  ?"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 

"  It's  like  a  coracle,"  said  Robin. 

'*  It  is  a  coracle,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  I  made  that 
after  seeing  a  Welsh  boatman  make  one.  They're  very 
jolly  when  you  get  into  the  way  of  them.  I'm  afraid  the 
wind's  fallen,  or  we  could  have  a  yacht  race  here.    This 


"  'A  greater  explorer  than  Columbus.'  " 

is  where  I  race  my  models.  Just  lately  I've  been  trying 
my  steamer  model,  but  she's  burst  her  crank,  and  I 
haven't  got  another  one.  So  that's  no  go.  How  would 
you  like  to  go  exploring  on  a  boat  like  this  coracle  ? ' ' 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  Mac,  "  I  don't  think  I  should  like 
it  at  all.     There's  no  room  in  her  !" 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  "  the  man  who  first  went 
to  sea  in  a  coracle,  or  on  a  log,  or  in  a  burnt-out  hollow 
tree,  was  a  greater  explorer  than  Columbus.  Colrunbus 
discovered  a  new  land,  but  the  savage  who  first  went 
across  a  river  or  out  to  sea  discovered  a  new  element." 

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A    Book    of    Discoveries 

"  Please,  sir/'  said  Robin,  "  who  was  it  who  first  dis- 
covered boats  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  But  you  can 
figure  it  out  for  yourself  how  they  were  discovered,  can't 
you  ?     I  should  call  it  invented  myself.     Try  to  think." 

"  I  don't  know  how  they  were  discovered,"  the  boys 
said,  after  a  pause.  Mac  added  later  that  *'  everybody 
would  know  that  wood  would  float." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  *'  you  shall  come  here 
to-morrow  to  figure  it  out  for  yourselves.  D'you  think 
you  could  ?" 

"  What  ?     Come  here,  sir,  or  figure  it  out  ?" 

"  Both,"  Mr.  Hampden  said. 

"  I  should  think  we  could,"  said  Robin,  "  if  it's  fine." 

"  It  will  be  fine,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  What !  You 
two  call  yourselves  explorers  and  can't  tell  the  weather  ? 
Surely  you  can  see  that  it's  going  to  be  fine  ?" 

"  No,  sir.     Please,  sir,  how  can  you  tell  ?" 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  *'  I  see  it  by  so  many 
signs  that  you  might  almost  say  that  I  feel  it.  In  the 
first  place,  there's  a  northerly  wind,  which  has  dropped. 
The  sky  to  the  west  is  free  of  cloud,  and  yet  all  the 
horizon  is  dim  with  haze.  There's  a  promise  of  mist 
already  on  the  rim  of  the  lake  across  there ;  and  the 
white  drifting  mist  over  water  is  one  of  the  surest  signs 
of  hot,  fine  summer  weather.  The  fish  aren't  rising  in 
the  lake,  nor  leaping  out  of  it.  Then  the  midges  aren't 
biting,  and  the  gnats  are  dancing,  and  sound  isn't 
travelling  well.  We're  not  hearing  distant  noises — cows, 
or  dogs,  or  church-bells.  The  air  is  dim,  and  as  if  it  were 
solid  rather  than  clear  and  watery.     There's  a  promise 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

of  strong,  pure  rich  colour  in  the  sunset.  The  ducks  are 
quiet.  There  is  practically  no  cloud  at  all  in  the  heavens, 
but  what  there  is  is  light,  dim  and  in  small  rolls,  of  the 
kind  called  *  cumulus.'  What  there  is  is  high  up,  and 
almost  stationary.  Such  movement  as  it  has  is  from  the 
north,  following  the  direction  of  the  wind  down  here. 
Then  the  pimpernel  is  wide  open,  and  my  hair  is  dry. 
You  young  rogues  have  just  been  bathing,  and  drying 
with  a  handkerchief,  so  you  needn't  feel  your  own  hair. 
Then,  you  may  have  noticed  that  just  outside  the  door  of 
my  workroom  there's  a  piece  of  skin  dangling  from  a 
string,  which  I  felt  as  I  went  outside.  It  is  as  dry  as  old 
parchment.  If  it  were  going  to  rain,  it  would  feel  moist, 
because  of  the  salt  in  it.  Last  of  all,  the  swallows  are 
flying  high.  I  dare  say  I  could  think  of  some  other  signs 
if  I  gave  my  mind  to  it.  If  I  had  an  old  wound,  or  even 
a  bad  corn,  it  would  give  me  a  twinge  or  two  if  rain  were 
coming.  If  you  keep  your  eyes  open,  you'll  learn  other 
signs  for  yourself — so  many,  in  fact,  that  it  will  become  a 
sort  of  extra  sense  in  you,  and  you'll  be  able  to  say  in 
the  morning,  '  It  feels  like  rain,'  or  '  The  wind's 
going  to  blow.  I'm  not  going  to  look  for  America 
to-day.'  At  what  time  have  you  young  men  got  to  be 
back  at  home  ?" 

"  About  six-thirty,"  said  Mac.  "  We're  expected  in 
by  then.  We  have  supper  then.  But  it  doesn't  matter 
our  being  late." 

'*  Doesn't  it  ?"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  **  Well,  it's  six 
now.  And  how  are  you  going  to  get  your  boat  over 
the  rapids  ?  How  long  d'you  think  that'll  take  you  ? 
Did  you  ever  pull  against  a  three-mile  stream  ?" 

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A    Book    of    Discoveries 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Mac. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  "  you'd  better  be  off,  if 
you  don't  want  to  frighten  your  mother.  You  won't 
be  back  much  before  eight.  I  shall  expect  you  to- 
morrow at  what  time — ten  o'clock  ?  Or  do  you  lie  in 
bed  after  exploring  ?" 

"  We'll  be  here  at  ten,  sir,  if  we  may,"  the  boys  said. 
"  And,  please,  sir,"  said  Mac,  with  a  rush,  "  might  we 
bathe  off  the  island  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  "  if  you  can  figure  out  that 
puzzle.  But  I  expect  you  not  to  bring  any  more  of  those 
catties.     Is  that  a  bargain  ?" 

The  boys  promised  not  to  bring  any  more  catties. 
They  started  off  to  get  the  Little  Revenge.  When  they 
said  good-bye  to  Mr.  Hampden  at  the  boathouse,  they 
thanked  him  very  warmly  for  all  his  kindness  to  them. 
He  helped  them  out  of  the  boathouse,  and  bade  them  to 
hug  the  shore  when  they  got  into  the  river,  so  as  to  avoid 
the  current.  He  hoped  that  they  would  enjoy  getting 
over  the  rapids.  The  boys  pulled  off  together,  heartily 
giving  way.  Mr.  Hampden  watched  them  as  long  as 
they  were  in  sight.  "  What  it  is  to  be  young  !"  he  said 
to  himself.  '*  How  old  we  should  feel  if  we  didn't  see 
young  people  now  and  then  !  Well,  I  think  they  enjoyed 
themselves."  A  favourite  robin  hopped  towards  him. 
He  took  a  currant  from  his  pocket  and  put  it  between  his 
lips.  The  robin  flew  to  him,  perched  on  his  shoulder, 
fluttered  up,  and  took  the  currant.  A  few  other  birds — 
a  thrush,  a  tit  or  two,  some  sparrows,  and  a  couple  of 
blackbirds — appeared  suddenly  from  nowhere  in  par- 
ticular, with  a  general  air  of  expectation.   .  He  had  a  little 

65  E 


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grain  and  a  few  more  currants.  He  enticed  them  to 
come  to  eat  out  of  his  hand,  which  they  did  shyly,  one  at 
a  time,  with  Httle  rapid  backward  darts  after  each  peck. 

Meanwhile  the  evening  gathered.  The  light  became 
more  of  a  glow.  It  was  as  though,  the  fire  being  out, 
the  embers  smouldered.  The  boys  pulled  out  of  the 
lake  into  the  quicker  water,  marvelling  at  the  colour  of 
the  woods,  now  that  the  flush  took  them.  The  water- 
fowl were  about.  An  early  owl  cried  once,  and  was 
silent.  A  night-jar  in  a  beech-tree  spun  his  rattle. 
There  were  little  splashings  from  the  water-rats.  A  big 
fish  rose  with  a  swirl  at  a  floating  water-lily  bud.  Soon 
the  babble  of  the  water  was  all  about  them.  They  felt 
the  rush  and  chuckle.  They  felt  the  sharp,  bobbing 
slaps  of  the  dance  of  the  boat  against  the  current.  They 
saw  an  alder-bush  stay  within  ten  yards  of  them  during 
nearly  five  minutes  of  pulling. 

"  I  say,"  said  Mac,  "  we  can't  pull  against  this.  We'll 
have  to  tie  the  boat  up  and  walk." 

"  Try  and  pole  her  up,"  said  Robin.  "  The  Indians 
pole  their  boats  up  rapids.  You  stand  up  and  shove  the 
pole  down  to  the  bottom,  and  then  give  a  sort  of  shove, 
like  you  do  in  a  punt,  and  then  the  boat  goes  on." 

"  Hold  tight  to  your  oar,  then,"  said  Mac,  standing  up 
to  pole.  "  And  mind  you  keep  the  boat  trimmed,  or 
we  shall  upset.  And  mind  you  keep  time."  They  stood 
up,  one  on  each  side,  forcing  forward. 

"  One,  two,  three,"  said  Mac.     "  Pole  her  up." 

They  dug  their  oars  down  and  shoved.  Luckily  for 
them  (as  sometimes  happens),  they  did  it  fairly  well  for 
the  first  few  times.     The  boat  visibly  advanced  a  little. 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  Splendid  !"  cried  Mac.  "  This  is  better  than  rowing. 
I  say,  isn't  this  Uke  a  canyon,  with  all  those  trees  there  ? 
And  then  the  rapids  there.  I  say,  I  know  what  we'll 
do  at  the  rapids.  We'll  get  out  and  wade,  and  make 
what  they  call  a  portage.  There  goes  an  otter ;  or  is  it 
a  water-rat  ?" 

At  this  instant,  as  he  shoved  on  his  oar,  he  overbalanced, 
and  fell  forward.  The  oar  slipped  forward  with  a  splash, 
and  floated  off.     The  boat  rocked,  and  almost  upset. 

"  Look  out,  you  donk  !"  said  Robin. 

"  Look  out  for  my  oar  !"  cried  Mac,  jumping  up,  too 
late,  to  grab  for  it. 

Robin  swung  his  oar  over,  and  tried  to  knock  the  float- 
ing oar  towards  the  boat.  He  hit  it  once,  but  the  current 
was  swift  there.     The  oar  danced  over  a  ripple,  and  away. 

"  Now  you've  done  it,"  said  Robin,  swiftl3^  backing 
the  boat  to  go  in  chase.  **  We  shan't  get  it  back  in  a 
hurry."  He  went  forward  with  his  oar,  and  paddled 
with  it  hard,  now  on  one  side  and  now  on  the  other, 
in  a  style  which  he,  in  his  innocence,  called  "gondolier- 
ing."  Mac  stood  just  behind  him,  making  it  plain  that 
he  thought  his  brother's  rowing  inferior.  He  kept 
urging,  "  Now  let  me  have  a  go." 

When  they  captured  the  missing  oar,  they  were  below 
the  rapids,  with  all  their  labour  to  do  again.  "  This 
settles  it,"  said  Robin.  "  Fm  not  going  to  drag  up  those 
rapids  again.  We  must  tie  the  boat  up  and  walk  it. 
Shove  her  into  the  bank.  We'll  have  to  take  the  oars 
with  us,  or  hide  them  in  a  ditch  somehow.  I  doubt  if 
we'll  ever  be  able  to  get  the  boat  back  again  till  we've 
practised  poling." 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  Oh,  come  on.  Don't  funk  it,  man,"  said  Mac.  "  I 
know  what  we'll  do.  We'll  crawl  along  by  the  bank,  and 
pull  her  up  by  the  bushes." 

Mac  was  the  stronger  of  the  two.  His  counsels  pre- 
vailed. They  wearily  set  to  work  to  pull  the  boat  along 
by  hauling  on  the  boughs  of  the  alders.  There  came  a 
faint  puffing  noise  behind  them  ;  there  came  a  hail.  Mr. 
Hampden  was  there  in  his  motor-launch,  offering  them  a 
tow.  He  ran  his  boat  through  the  difficult  water  in  mid- 
stream. "  Can  you  catch  a  line  ?"  he  called,  as  he 
bobbed  past.  He  had  a  line  ready  coiled  in  his  right 
hand.  He  was  steering  with  his  left.  His  eyes  seemed 
to  be  everywhere  at  once — now  on  the  water,  now  on  the 
boys,  now  on  the  run  of  the  stream  ahead.  "  Stand  by 
to  catch,"  he  called  again,  taking  advantage  of  a  smooth. 
His  right  hand  flicked  suddenly.  The  line  shot  out  and 
up,  unfiaking  as  it  went.  It  fell  across  the  boat  with 
a  smart  rattle.  Mac  caught  it,  and  hitched  it  to  the  ring 
in  the  bows. 

"  Let  go  of  the  bushes,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  '*  Steer 
your  boat  with  the  oars,  and  keep  her  trimmed.  Let 
her  get  astern  of  me.  Are  you  ready  ?  Pull  in  on  the 
line  a  little,  and  make  fast.  Don't  come  too  near. 
Make  fast  there.     I'm  going  ahead  now." 

Twenty  minutes  later  the  boys  were  running  over  the 
last  couple  of  fields  to  their  supper. 


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Chapter  VI 


HE  next  day  the  boys  were  afloat, 
betimes.  They  shot  the  rapids  in 
the  style  described  in  one  of  their 
story-books.  The  boat  got  a  jolt 
on  a  boulder,  but  escaped  ship- 
wreck. When  they  were  in  the 
smooths  below  the  rapids,  they 
held  water  for  a  minute,  while  they 
tried  to  fix  in  their  minds  the 
safest  course  to  follow  in  coming  down.  They  drew  maps 
of  the  rapids  in  their  pocket-books,  marking  the  bad 
boulders  and  the  places  where  the  fall  seemed  fiercest. 
The  water  was  too  shallow  to  be  dangerous  to  good 
swimmers,  but  it  was  quite  fierce  enough  to  be  dangerous 
to  an  old,  not  very  handy,  boat  like  the  Little  Revenge. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Mac,  "  if  this  dry  weather  keeps  on, 
we  shall  have  to  come  down  the  calm  bit  in  another  week. 
The  water's  falling.  I  dare  say  all  this  rapid  bit  is  quite 
dry  when  there's  a  drought,  except  just  the  side.  I 
wouldn't   care   to   come    down   this    in   a   flood,    would 


you  r' 

"  No,"  said  Robin.  "  Mac, 
was  we  bumped  ?  Wasn't  it 
that  wisp  of  hay's  caught  ? 

69 


did  you  notice  where  it 
just  by  the  alder,  where 
We  ought  to   mark   that 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

*  dangerous.'  It  might  have  twisted  us  round,  broad- 
side on." 

"  I  didn't  notice  where  it  was,"  said  Mac.  **  We  ought 
to  have  noticed.  That  was  a  bad  stone.  I  thought  we 
were  over.  " 

"  Well,  some  day,"  said  Robin,  "  we'll  land  and 
make  a  proper  plan  of  it  from  the  bank,  or  one  of 
us  land,  and  shout  out  directions  to  the  other.  It  'd 
be  rather  fun,  having  a  match  to  see  who  got  down 
quickest." 

"  Or,  tell  you  what,"  said  Mac,  "  when  the  water's 
right  down,  we  might  wade  out  and  hike  out  a  few  of 
the  stones." 

*'  I  don't  think  that  'd  be  much  good,"  said  Robin, 
''  'cos  in  currents  like  this  the  stones  shift  with  each 
spate.  It's  funny  it  should  be  so  bouldery  here,  and  not 
at  all  bouldery  farther  up.  I  suppose  the  woods  up  there 
are  bouldery,  and  then  they  roll  down." 

They  swung  the  boat  round,  and  pulled  on. 

They  found  Mr.  Hampden  at  work  in  the  work- 
room, turning  a  new  spar  for  one  of  his  models. 

**  Well,"  he  said.  '*  I  hope  your  mother,  gave  you 
good  spankings  for  being  late.  Didn't  she  ?  Not  ? 
Well,  that's  very  strange.  So  now  you're  here,  and  don't 
know  what  to  do  till  it's  time  for  bathing  ?" 

**  Please,  sir,"  said  Mac,  "  what  is  it  you're  making  ?" 

"  I'm  making  the  mast  of  a  galley.  D'you  know  what 
a  galley  is  ?" 

**  A  thing  they  put  slaves  in,  sir." 

"  A  sort  of  sugar  plantation  ?"  Mr.  Hampden  asked. 
"  They  put  slaves  in  sugar  plantations,  didn't  they,  and 

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then  hunted  them  with  bloodhounds.     Eh  ?     Isn't  that 
what  they  did  ?" 

**  Yes,  sir,"  said  Robin.  He  had  just  been  reading 
"  The  Creole."     He  knew  all  about  slaves. 

"  Well,  a  galley's  a  little  like  a  sugar  plantation,  be- 
cause  there   are   slaves   in   both,"    said   Mr.   Hampden, 
smiling.     "  But  I'm  not  going  to  tell  you  about  galleys. 
You  don't  know  about  dug-outs  yet.  Have  you 
discovered  yet  about  boats,  and  how  we  began 
to  use  them  ?"     He  put  away  his  work,  and 
led  the  way  out  to  the  water.     "  Well,"  he 
said,  after  a  pause,  "how  did  boating  begin, 
do  you  suppose  ?  Suppose 
you   were    two   savages, 
living  in  that  hole  in  the 
ground  there,  or  two  half- 
monkey  -  men,      perched 
up  in  the  tree  there,  how 
do  you  think  you  would 
take  to  the  water  ?" 

"I    expect "    said 

Mac,  and  then  stopped. 
'*  Were  men  really  half- 
monkeys  once,  sir  ?"  he 
asked. 

"  Something  not  much  better  than  apes,  I  expect," 
said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  But  it's  a  point  not  yet  cleared 
up  and  settled  finally.  If  it  happened,  it  happened  long 
ago.  Actual  proofs  have  not  yet  been  found,  and  may 
never  be  found.  But  we  know,  from  some  skulls  which 
have  been  found,  that  man  was  once  a  great  deal  more 

71 


Something  not  much  better  than 
apes.'  " 


A    Book    of    Discoveries 

like  a  great  ape  than  he  is  at  present.  And  many  things 
tend  to  show  that  all  existing  forms  of  life  are  adapted 
and  generally  improved  from  earlier,  less  complex  forms. 
Man  certainly  sprang  from  some  type  more  brutish  than 
an}^  now  existing.  And  that's  as  far  as  I  can  go,  knowing 
next  to  nothing  about  it." 

*'  Well,  did  they  live  up  trees,  sir,  when  they  were  half 
apes  ?"  Mac  asked. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  Some  big  apes  are 
supposed  to  build  little  rough  shelters  on  trees,  and  many 
primitive  men  do  so  always.  They  have  little  platforms, 
high  up  on  the  branches,  with  some  sort  of  thatched  roof. 
And  then  they  climb  up  by  a  rope,  and  pull  the  rope  up 
after  them.  And  there  they  are,  very  snug,  till  some- 
body comes  and  burns  the  tree  down." 

"  What  sort  of  weapons  have  they,  sir  ?"  Mac  asked. 

"  Weapons  ?  Do  you  mean  the  apes  or  the  men  ?  I 
don't  think  the  apes  have  anything.  The  men  have 
chipped  flints,  or  jade,  or  some  other  hard,  smooth  stone, 
polished  into  axe-heads,  or  just  some  nice  nobbly  bit  of 
rock,  twisted  tightly  with  a  withy — like  this."  He 
bent  down  and  twisted  a  bit  of  string  about  a  stone, 
so  that  the  stone,  tightly  gripped  by  it,  made  a  kind  of 
hammer-head.  "There,"  he  said.  "If  you've  seen 
men  fastening  up  faggots  with  withy,  you'll  know  the 
sort  of  handle  they  use.  They  sometimes  use  rawhide,  I 
believe,  for  the  hide  shrinks  as  it  dries,  and  grips  the  stone 
even  tighter.  And  then  with  a  thing  like  this  they  whack 
the  little  boys  who  come  after  their  waterfowl  with 
catties.  Eh  ?  Would  you  like  me  to  whack  you  with 
this  ?     Don't  you  think  you  deserve  it  ?" 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  Mac,  edging  away  with  a  grin, 
"didn't  men  first  take  to  the  water  by  accident,  in 
floods  ?  Didn't  they  get  on  logs  when  they  got  carried 
away  by  the  water,  and  then  find  they  could  direct 
them  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  Most  primitive 
people  who  live  by  rivers  are  extremely  clever  swimmers. 
I  suppose  that  either  they  or  the  very,  very  primitive 
men  before  them  discovered  that  some  logs  were  big 
enough  to  support  them  in  the  water  ;  and  from  that  they 
would  soon  learn  how  to  propel  the  log  by  paddling  on 
one  side  or  the  other  with  their  hands  and  feet.  The 
next  step  would  be  to  get  a  log  which  would  keep  them 
dry,  and  let  them  carry  things  with  them,  and  a  paddle 
which  would  save  their  legs  and  arms  from  being  snapped 
off  by  crocodiles.  So  then,  when  they  got  a  good  big 
log,  they  hollowed  it  out  by  burning." 

"  How  did  they  burn  it  ?"  Robin  asked. 

"  I  suppose  they  lit  fires  on  it,  and  then  chipped  out 
the  charred  wood  with  their  axes.  It  would  be  easy  to 
do  that.  And  when  they  had  chipped  out  all  the  charred 
wood,  they  lit  another  fire,  and  charred  the  hole  a  little 
deeper.  Or  they  might  have  built  a  big  fire  and  heated 
a  lot  of  sticks  red  hot,  and  then  rubbed  the  log  with  the 
red-hot  ends,  and  kept  on  doing  that  till  the  hollow  was 
deep  enough.  They  probably  didn't  want  a  very  big 
hollow — room  for  one  or  two  men,  and  for  whatever  they 
might  kill  when  they  went  hunting.  As  for  paddles,  I 
don't  know  what  they  did.  I  expect  they  found  paddles 
more  trouble  than  the  boat  itself.  They  would  know 
that  it  would  have  to  be  something  like  a  hand  at  the 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

end  of  an  arm.  It  must  have  taken  them  a  long  time 
to  make  anything  hke  that.  I  fancy  that  paddles  were 
so  much  trouble  to  make  that  the  first  boats  were  made 
very  small,  so  that  they  could  be  managed  with  only  one. 
Coracles  have  only  one.  You  make  your  stroke,  and 
then  give  a  little  quick  twist  with  the  blade,  to  keep  the 
boat  on  a  straight  course.  Otherwise,  of  course,  you'd  pull 
her  round  and  round  and  round  like  a  merry-go-round.  Of 
course,  if  you  preferred,  you  could  dip  the  oar  now  on  one 
side,  now  on  the  other  ;  but  that  is  both  more  tiring  and 
slower.  But  logs  weren't  the  only  primitive  boats  by 
any  means.  I  expect  they  had  rafts  made  of  logs  tied 
together,  and  rafts  of  saplings  laid  on  blown-up  skins, 
like  great  bladders,  and  boats  like  baskets  with  hide 
stretched  over  them — just  coracles,  in  fact.  And  then, 
of  course,  they  had  small  swimming-bladders,  like  the 
ones  you  see  at  swimming-baths.  They  would  swim 
with  those  when  they  were  going  farther  than  usual,  so 
as  to  rest  themselves  for  the  job  in  hand,  which,  I  expect, 
was  generally  jabbing  somebody  or  something  with  a 
sharp  bit  of  flint,  or  fetching  him  or  it  a  crack  on  the  skull 
with  a  club.  You  see,  primitive  man  spent  most  of  his 
time  either  fighting  or  hunting." 

"  And  when  did  they  begin  to  use  sails,  sir  ?" 
"  Oh,  I  expect  sails  soon  came,*'  said  Mr.  Hampden. 
*'  I  don't  suppose  it  took  you  long  to  find  out  how  helpful 
the  wind  might  be  on  that  straight  stretch  up  above  where 
you  live.  But  if  the  earliest  boats  were  on  rivers,  sails 
would  be  of  comparatively  little  use,  and  so  they  wouldn't 
develop  much.  But  in  tribes  living  near  lakes,  or  on 
the  sea,  where  sails  would  be  important,  I  expect  they 

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A    Book    of    Discoveries 

developed  quickly.  Generally  primitive  people  don't  do 
more  than  suits  their  development.  They're  like  you. 
You  don't  do  more  Latin  grammar  than  your  master  sets 
you,  do  you  ?" 

"No,  sir,"  said  the  boys  together. 

'*  It  was  the  same  with  primitive  men,"  Mr.  Hampden 
said.  ''  Their  masters  were  Hunger  and  Fear.  When 
they  had  provided  for  those  two  masters  they  didn't  bother 
to  go  farther.  And  the  stricter  those  two  masters,  were, 
the  sharper  the  pupils  became,  and  the  more  they  learned. 
The  sort  of  problem  they  had  to  face  was  often  something 
like  this  :  '  If  I  can't  catch  a  fish,  I  shall  starve ;  and  if 
I  can't  manage  my  boat,  I  shall  drown.' 

"  As  long  as  the  boats  were  wanted  only  for  fishing 
or  for  ferrying,  it  didn't  pay  primitive  man  to  make 
them  better  than  just  good  enough  for  the  purpose. 
But,  of  course,  the  purpose  varied  enormously  as  the 
conditions  varied.  He  might  want  a  boat  to  sail  in 
light  airs,  or  a  boat  strong  enough  to  stand  a  steady 
fresh  gale,  like  the  monsoons  or  the  trade  winds.  Or  he 
might  want  her  light  and  finely  built,  so  that  she  might 
go  against  currents.  Or  he  might  want  her  to  stand  a 
nasty  short,  choppy  sea,  like  the  sea  in  the  Channel, 
or  a  great  steady  roll,  like  the  sea  on  the  North  and  West 
of  Ireland.  Or  to  land  on  steep  shingle,  like  the  shingle 
at  Deal,  or  on  flat  sand  like  Polzeath,  or  among  rocks,  or 
over  the  bars  of  little  rivers.  Every  place  has  some  special 
character  which  tends  to  modify  the  boats  in  local  use. 
And  the  worse  the  boats  are,  the  more  they  suffer  from 
a  place's  special  disadvantage.  In  fact,  the  worse  the 
place  is,  the  stricter  Master  Fear  gets,  and  the  sharper 

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his  pupils  become.  Now  here,  in  a  calm  pool  like  this, 
it  is  hardly  ever  dangerous  even  for  a  light  canoe.  As 
long  as  you  can  swim,  you  can  put  out  here  in  a  washing- 
tub  without  risk.  The  place  is  full  of  fish.  And  you're 
two  young  savages  coming  down  to  get  provisions. 
What  would  you  do  ?  I'll  suppose  that  you  are  furiously 
hungry,  and  that  winter's  coming  on,  and  that  if  you 
don't  get  a  store  of  fish  dried,  you  and  your  tribe  '11 
die.     Wliat  would  you  do  ?" 

"  I  should  get  a  log  burned  out,  and  go  out  in  that," 
said  Robin. 

''  I  shouldn't,"  said  Mac.  "  I'd  net  the  mouth  of  this 
pool,  and  try  to  drive  all  the  fish  into  the  net.  A  boat 
wouldn't  be  much  good  for  a  whole  tribe.  Had  they 
got  fishing- nets,  sir  ?" 

"  I  expect  they  had,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  But  come 
— it's  your  bathing  time.  I've  got  a  dug-out  in  the  boat- 
house.  We'll  all  get  into  the  coracle  here  and  go  round 
to  the  boathouse,  and  then  you  shall  race  to  the  island — 
one  of  you  in  the  dug-out  and  the  other  in  the  coracle." 

They  got  into  the  coracle,  and  shoved  off  from  the  shore. 

"  Sit  still,  now,"  cried  Mr.  Hampden,  **  because  these 
ships  aren't  built  for  pantomimes.  Now,  you  see  how 
I  twist  the  paddle  at  the  end  of  the  stroke  ?  You  see  if 
you  can  do  that." 

The  boys  tried,  with  varying  success.  Mr.  Hampden 
showed  them  how  to  keep  some  object  on  the  shore — a 
tree,  rock,  or  house — straight  in  front  of  them  as  a 
steering-mark.  The  coracle  twisted  about  a  good  deal 
at  first,  but  they  soon  got  into  the  way  of  her.  When 
they  got  to  the  boathouse  they  found  the  dug-out.     She 

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looked  like  a  very  big,  rough,  oblong,  wooden  sugar- 
bowl.  She  had  one  little  thwart,  low  down,  and  one 
little  rough  paddle. 

*'  I  bought  this  from  a  savage  in  Australia,"  said  Mr. 
Hampden.  "  That  was  twenty  years  ago  and  more.  I 
paid  him  three  empty  green  glass  bottles  and  a  shilling's 
worth  of  soft  copper  wire  for  it.  He  wanted  the  bottle- 
glass  to  chip  into  arrow-heads.  Here's  one  on  my 
watch-chain.  D'you  see  ?  I  saw  him  make  that  one. 
How  would  you  like  that  to  come  whizzing  into  you  ?" 

"  Please,  sir,  it  wouldn't  really  hurt,  would  it  ?"  said 
Robin. 

**  Not  hurt  ?"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  If  this  was  shot 
on  a  reed-arrow  from  one  of  the  bows  those  fellows  had, 
it  would  very  likely  go  right  through  you." 

The  boys  looked  at  the  thing  with  greater  reverence 
when  they  heard  that  it  was  dangerous. 

"  How  did  he  make  it  ?"  they  asked. 

"  Make  it  ?"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  *'  Well,  you  must 
remember  that  he  had  been  making  his  own  arrow-heads 
out  of  flints  ever  since  his  boyhood,  so  that  he  had  the 
knack  of  it.  He  broke  the  glass  carefully,  and  then 
chipped  it  into  flakes  by  tapping  it  with  a  knob  of  flint. 
Then  he  took  one  of  the  flakes  and  chipped  it  with  tiny 
little  taps  till  he  had  it  shaped  as  you  see.  He  was  a 
clever  workman.  It  didn't  take  him  very  long.  But 
when  you  get  home,  you  get  a  ginger-beer  bottle,  and 
see  if  you  can  make  one.  It  is  most  frightfully  hard. 
When  it  was  finished  he  wanted  to  set  it  into  a  split 
cane,  and  then  lash  the  cane  with  a  gut  thread,  but  I 
wouldn't  let  him,   as  I  thought  T  would  keep  it  as  a 

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watch-chain  charm.  You  must  never  despise  savages; 
they  are  often  very  wonderful.  A  savage  can  generally 
do  more  than  the  average  European  man,  who  depends 
so  much  on  the  work  of  others.  The  man  who  made 
this  arrow-head  and  this  dug-out  also  made  his  own  fishing- 
lines  and  fish-hooks.  He  made  those  out  of  sinew  and 
sea-shells.  He  could  swim  practically  all  day.  He 
could  run  forty  miles  without  getting  blown.  He  could 
get  himself  food,  of  a  sort,  all  the  year  round,  and  he 
could  kill  pigeons  with  a  boomerang.  Supposing  you 
were  planted  down  suddenly  on  the  coast  where  he  lived, 
how  much  do  you  suppose  you  would  be  able  to  do  for 
yourself  ?  Robinson  Crusoe  had  a  ship  to  draw  upon  ; 
but  supposing  you  hadn't  got  a  ship — only  just  your  own 
wits,  and  a  jolly  big  healthy  appetite  ?  Eh  ?  You'd 
have  to  make  better  shots  with  your  catties  than  you 
did  at  my  waterfowl.  So  now  draw  lots  for  which  of  you 
shall  have  the  coracle,  and  then  go  over  to  the  island  and 
have  your  swim.  I've  put  you  in  a  spring-board,  so  that 
you  can  have  a  dive.  Now  you  are  to  race  from  the 
door  of  the  boathouse  to  the  mouth  of  that  creek,  where 
you  moored  your  boat  yesterday.  You're  not  to  race 
m  the  creek,  or  you'll  upset  yourselves.  And  remember 
that  if  either  of  you  gets  excited  and  tries  to  go  too  fast, 
he'll  find  that  the  boat  will  get  excited  too.  So  keep  your 
heads." 

The  boys  drew  lots.  Robin  drew  the  coracle.  The 
very  close  race  was  won  by  him.  The  boys  bathed, 
changed  boats,  and  raced  back.     The  coracle  won  again. 

"  The  fact  is,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  "  the  dug-out  needs 
a  lot  more  knowing.     You  didn't  get  all  that  you  could 

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out  of  her.  You  must  practise  in  her.  Now,  are  you 
cold  after  bathing,  or  shall  we  take  a  boat  down  to  Dead 
King's  Pond,  and  see  if  we  can  catch  some  perch  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  yes  ;  we're  not  cold,"  the  boys  cried.  "But 
why  is  it  called  Dead  King's  Pond,  sir  ?  Did  a  King  die 
there,  sir  ?" 

"  No,  I  don't  know,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  But  just 
by  the  edge  of  the  lake  there  is  a  round  barrow,  which  is 
supposed  to  be  the  grave  of  some  old  chief,  and  so  I  call 
that  bay  of  the  lake  Dead  King's  Pond,  from  the  barrow. 
I  daresay  he  was  a  King,  because  the  barrow  is  pretty 
big." 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  Robin,  "  are  there  any  traditions 
about  it  ?     Is  it  haunted  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  I  asked  Matthew,  my 
carter,  about  it  once,  and  he  said  it  '  wur  just  a  oald 
tump,  like.'  As  for  haunted,  all  places  are  haunted  if 
your  nerves  are  upset.     Are  your  nerves  upset  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Robin.  "  At  least,  I  dare  say  they 
would  be  if  I  saw.  a  ghost." 

"  Well,  till  then,  cheer  up,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 
"Did  you  ever  open  the  barrow,  sir?"  asked  Mac, 
"  to  see  what  was  inside  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  Let  the  poor  old  fellow  be. 
He  was  a  King.  Who  am  I  to  go  digging  up  Kings  ? 
Besides,  you  wouldn't  rob  a  man's  grave,  would  you  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Mac ;  "I  suppose  not,  sir.  But 
mightn't  there  be  very  interesting  things  inside — swords 
and  treasure,  and  perhaps  his  crown  ?" 

"  There  might  be  a  few  old  broken  bones,"  said  Mr. 
Hampden,    "  and   perhaps   a   broken   pot   or   two,    and 

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perhaps  a  flint  arrow-head.  But  what  do  I  want  with 
them  ?  I  can  get  whole  bones  at  the  butcher's,  and 
perfect  pots  at  the  potteries,  and  rifle  cartridges  at  the 
gunsmith's,  so  why  should  I  bother  ?  Besides,  nearly  all 
these  barrows  were  opened  by  thieves  in  the  Middle 
Ages,  and  pillaged.  They  used  to  use  the  things  they 
found  in  the  practice  of  magic." 

"  Magic,  sir  ?" 

"  Yes,  magic.  It  was  practised  by  a  lot  of  people. 
It  is  practised  still.  But  come  on  into  the  boat.  I've 
got  the  rods  there." 

**  Are  we  likely  to  get  perch,  sir  ?"  Mac  asked.  "  It's 
rather  sunny,  isn't  it  ?" 

"It  is  rather  sunny,"  he  answered.  "  But  the  Dead 
King's  Pond  is  a  dark  sort  of  pocket, rather  overshadowed; 
and  there  are  springs  bubbling  up  at  the  bottom,  and  there 
are  generally  perch  to  be  found  over  the  springs.  We 
might  try.  Perch  like  to  stay  in  one  place,  and  to  keep 
together.  And  they  can  give  you  a  nasty  prick  with  their 
spines  if  you're  not  clever  at  handling  them.  So  look 
out,  if  you've  never  caught  them  before." 

They  rowed  down  to  the  end  of  the  lake,  into  a  narrow 
alley  of  water  which  led  to  the  Pond.  Here  they  put 
out  their  lines.  It  was,  as  Mr.  Hampden  had  said,  "  a 
dark  sort  of  pocket,  rather  overshadowed."  The  water 
was  black-looking  and  grim,  evidently  pretty  deep.  The 
shore  was  rocky  near  the  l^ke,  and  densely  wooded 
beyond  the  rocks.  At  the  farthest  end  of  the  Pond, 
where  the  ground  was  flat,  the  dead  King's  grave  rose  up, 
in  a  neatly  rounded  heap,  twenty  feet  high.  It  was  not 
overgrown  with  the  usual  August  profusion.     It  had  been 

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kept  neat.     Whoever  the  King  may  have  been,  he  had  a 
pleasant  place  for  his  grave. 

*'  Please,  sir,"  said  Robin,  "  didn't  they  use  to  bury 
their  ships  in  barrows  ?" 

"  I  don't  think  they  did  in  this  country,"  said  Mr. 
Hampden.  "  They  did  in  Norway.  Great  chiefs  were 
often  buried  in  their  ships.  One  or  two  of  the  ships 
have  been  found,  with  the  bones  of  the  chiefs  inside 
them.  But  that  was  long  after  coracles  and  dug-outs. 
I've  got  a  bite.  No,  no  !  He's  off  !  Look  here  !  I'll 
take  the  oars  now,  while  you  two  fish." 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  Mac,  "  after  the  people  had  got 
sails,  they  surely  had  to  make  their  boats  deeper,  or 
they'd  have  been  blown  over.  Did  they  make  them 
deeper  ?" 

*'  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Hampden  ;  "  the}^  would  have  been 
blown  over.  They  had  to  do  something  of  the  kind. 
But  perhaps  their  first  device  was  the  outrigger — a  sort 
of  little  extra  boat,  or  log,  running  parallel  to  the  main 
boat,  and  pushed  out  from  it  by  poles.  This  is  always 
kept  on  the  lee  side.  It  makes  it  impossible  for  the  boat 
to  upset,  because,  no  matter  how  hard  the  wind  blows, 
this  outrigger  acts  as  a  prop  to  it.  Of  course,  this  out- 
rigger boat  was  very  light.  It  was  easy  to  make  and 
replace  ;  and  it  added  very  much  to  the  boat's  security. 
I  should  think  that  this  device  was  discovered  before 
people  learned  to  build  boats — while  they  were  still 
making  them  of  logs.  They  use  them  a  great  deal  in 
the  South  Seas  to  this  day.  They  are  marvellously  fast — 
about  the  fastest  boats  going.  I've  got  a  model  of  one 
in  the  work-room.     I've  never  built  one  here,  because 

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the  lake's  not  big  enough  really.     One  wants  the  sea  for 
them.'' 

"  Who  was  it  first  really  began  to  build  boats,  sir  ?" 
Mac  asked. 

"  That's  rather  a  stiff  question,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 
"  The  Egyptians  and  Phoenicians,  especially  the  Phoeni- 
cians, were  among  the  best  of  the  very  early  navigators. 
They  had  small  but  quite  good  ships,  with  oars  and 
sails.  The  sails  were  square.  The  ships  could  only  use 
the  sails  when  the  wind  was  dead  aft.  At  all  other 
times  they  were  rowed.  The  crew  sat  on  benches,  and 
pulled  at  the  oars,  which  pointed  through  holes  in  the 
ship's  side.  You  can  see  for  yourselves  that  the  ships 
could  not  gel  very  far  while  they  depended  on  rowers. 
Men  soon  get  tired  of  rowing,  especially  in  such  hot  seas 
as  the  Southern  Mediterranean.  Then  they  have  to  be 
relieved  by  others.  And  it  needs  a  lot  of  rowers  to  move 
a  ship  at  any  speed  against  even  a  small  wind.  And  if 
you  have  a  lot  of  rowers,  even  if  they  are  slaves,  serving 
without  pay,  you  have  to  feed  them  fairly  well  and  give 
them  drink,  and  food  and  drink  are  costly,  and  take  up 
a  lot  of  room.  The  early  voyages  were  mostly  coasting 
voyages,  in  which  the  sailors  stole  from  one  safe  haven  to 
another  along  the  coast.  I  expect  that  at  first,  w^hen  the 
ships  were  still  very  small  and  light,  seamen  landed  at 
night,  and  hauled  their  ships  up  the  beach  and  camped 
beside  them  till  the  morning.  In  such  small  ships  there 
was  no  room  for  covered  cabins,  and  no  flat  space  where 
the  men  could  stretch  themselves." 

''  Please,  sir,"  said  Robin,  "  if  the  ships  were  small,  I 
suppose  there  wasn't  very  much  trade  ?" 

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"  No.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  trade,"  said  Mr. 
Hampden,  "  even  in  very  early  times.  But  the  trade 
was  perhaps  mostly  in  luxuries  and  small  articles.  Homer 
speaks  of  a  Phoenician  ship  being  '  full  of  trinkets.' 
We  know  from  recent  discoveries  that  the  shores 
and  islands  of  the  Mediterranean  were  full  of  popu- 
lous and  thriving  towns.  Nearly  every  town  was  an 
intensely  jealous  little  State,  guarding  some  advan- 
tage  which   made   it   desirable.     The   advantage   might 


"The  sailors  stole  from  one  safe  haven  to  another." 

be  a  safe  anchorage,  or  shelter  from  a  prevalent  wind, 
or  a  stream  of  good  water,  or  firewood,  or  the  termi- 
nus of  a  road,  or  the  nearest  port  to  any  well-known 
trade-route.  And  to  coasters  creeping  along,  day  by 
day,  as  the  early  ships  crept,  every  town  was  important, 
partly  as  a  landing-place,  and  partly  as  the  home  of  law 
and  order.  There  were  many  pirates  hanging  about 
the  coast,  lurking  for  what  they  might  come  across. 
Any  little  seaport  with  respectable  inhabitants  was   a 

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refuge  from  them.  If  you  will  imagine  this  lake  as  the 
Mediterranean,  and  old  Mr.  Wyse's  field  there  a  haunt  of 
pirates,  and  your  boat  as  a  ship  coming  with  wine  and 
oil  and  gold,  you  will  understand  how  risky  navigation 
was,  and  how  seamen  felt  when  they  ran  upon  '  old 
Hampden's,'  eh  ?  Because  if  I'd  been  a  pirate,  like 
old  Mr.  Wyse,  you'd  have  been  seized,  and  your  ship 
taken,  and  yourselves  sold  into  slavery.  How  would  you 
have  liked  to  be  a  slave,  and  have  to  dig  in  some  old 
hunk's  kitchen-garden  all  your  days  ?" 
"  I  shouldn't  have  liked  it,"  said  Mac. 
"  I  should  have  liked  to  have  been  a  pirate,"  said 
Robin.     "  What  weapons  did  they  use,  sir  ?" 

"  Weapons  ?  Bows  and  arrows,  spears,  darts,  and 
knives.  In  those  early  times  most  of  the  weapons  were 
of  bronze.  Most  ships  of  war  had  a  great  big  bronze 
beak  under  the  water  for  use  as  a  ram.  They  would  try 
to  come  charging  down  on  to  the  side  of  an  enemy,  and 
knock  a  big  hole  in  her  under  the  water.  Another 
favourite  dodge  was  to  glide  alongside  and  smash  all 
the  enemy's  oars.  But  pirates  didn't  want  to  sink 
their  prizes.  I  expect  they  merely  towed  them  into 
some  snug  creek,  where  they  could  ransack  them.  Then 
they  would  either  keep  the  goods,  or  take  them  off  to  some 
distant  port  where  they  could  sell  them." 

"  And  what  happened  if  the  pirates  were  beaten  ? 
Were  they  ever  beaten  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  Every  now  and 
again  some  city  or  other  would  get  very  powerful.  And 
then  she  would  stamp  out  piracy  in  the  neighbourhood, 
or  perhaps  even  over  a  large  tract,  if  her  ships  were  much 

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interfered  with.  Then  the  pirates  *  got  sold  '  in  more 
senses  than  one,  if  they  didn't  take  to  honest  Uving  in 
time.  If  you  want  to  know  what  Hfe  in  a  ship  was  hke 
in  those  days,  you  must  try  to  imagine  the  ship — a  Uttle, 
rather  neatly  made,  wooden  ship,  with  smooth  sides, 
painted  red  or  black,  and  perhaps  greased,  so  as  to  slip 
through  the  water  easily.  At  the  bow  she  had  eyes 
painted,  so  that  she  might  see  her  way.  She  stood  low 
in  the  water.  There  was  a  sort  of  cage-work  at  the  stern 
to  shelter  the  steersman.  The  stem  was  slightly  raised. 
Forward  was  the  one  mast,  on  which  a  single  square  sail 
was  set  from  a  yard.  The  yard  seems  to  have  been 
fixed.  When  they  wanted  to  furl  the  sail,  they  had  to 
pull  the  foot  of  it  up  close  to  the  yard  with  ropes,  and 
then  go  aloft  to  make  it  fast. 

"  The  sailors  were  probably  very  powerful  men,  with 
great  arm  muscles  from  so  much  rowing.  They  rowed 
in  the  open,  sitting  on  benches,  one  or  two  men  to  an 
oar.  The  oars  were  poked  through  small  oar-holes  in 
the  ship's  sides.  In  very  big  ships  there  were  sometimes 
two,  three,  or  four  banks  of  oars  of  different  lengths 
projecting  from  the  ship's  sides,  either  in  tiers  of  oar-holes, 
one  above  the  other,  or  so  arranged  that  three  or  four 
oars  came  through  each  hole,  though  the  rowers  sat  on 
benches,  above  each  other.  Rowing  was  not  the  only 
hard  work  the  sailors  did.  A  sailor  even  now  has  to  be 
an  all-round  man.  But  in  those  days  he  had  to  do  every- 
thing by  his  own  strength  and  mother  wit.  There  was 
no  Jarge  to  come  along  with  a  farm-team  to  drag  his 
boat  over  a  field  for  him.  And  no  old  Hampden  with 
a  motor-launch  for  the  rapids.     He  had  to  know  what 

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wood  was  good  for  the  different  parts  of  ships,  what  was 
good  for  the  keel,  and  what  was  best  to  withstand  the 
worm  under  water,  and  what  was  best  for  the  sides  above 
the  water.  You  know  that  wood  immersed  in  sea  water 
attracts  boring  worms,  which  will  bore  neat  holes,  smoother 
than  3^ou  could  bore  them  with  an  auger,  through  even 
the  hardest  oak  in  an  astonishingly  short  time.  The  old- 
time  sailor  had  to  know  what  woods  the  worm  didn't 
like.  He  had  to  try  all  sorts  of  things  to  keep  the  worms 
away,  as  by  partially  charring  the  outside  of  the  under- 
water planks,  or  by  nailing  hides  over  them,  or  by 
smearing  them  with  lime  or  some  other  wash,  or  paint. 
Then  he  had  to  know  how  to  cut  all  the  plank  and  timber 
necessary  for  a  ship  in  all  the  different  curves  and  thick- 
nesses. He  had  to  know  how  to  join  them  together 
and  caulk  them  to  make  them  watertight,  and  how  to 
cut,  step,  and  rig  the  mast ;  how  to  shape  the  oars  ;  how 
to  twist  ropes  from  hemp  or  cowhide  ;  and  how  to  cut 
out  and  mend  sail.  There  was  probably  no  caste  of 
dockyard  workmen  to  do  all  these  things  for  him.  He 
had  to  do  them  himself.  And  by  learning  to  do  them 
he  became  a  very  clever  person.  You  may  have  noticed 
how  clever  fishermen  are.  They  do  many  of  these  things 
for  themselves  even  now.  But  the  early  sailor  had  to 
know  more  than  all  this.  He  had  to  know  how  to  fight 
with  all  the  weapons  then  in  use.  He  had  to  know  how 
to  load  a  ship,  and  how  to  pack  the  goods  in  a  hold  so 
that  they  wouldn't  work  loose  in  bad  weather.  He  had 
to  do  all  this  loading  and  unloading  by  hand.  There  were 
no  strong  steam  winches  to  hoist  his  heavy  boxes  for 
him.     He  had  to  do  it  all  himself. 

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"  Besides  all  these  things,  he  had  to  know  his  work  as  a 
sailor.  And  that  was  very  much  the  kind  of  knowledge 
which  you  would  gather  of  this  lake  and  the  way  to  it  if 
you  came  here  every  day.  He  would  learn  to  know  all 
the  signs  of  the  weather  at  each  season.  He  would  learn 
how  to  steer  by  some  of  the  stars  and  by  the  different  land- 
marks. He  would  get  to  know  by  heart  all  the  peculi- 
arities of  the  coast,  just  as  you  have  got  to  know  the  river 
here,  where  all  the  currents  are,  and  the  tide-rips,  the 
rocks,  the  reefs,  and  kelp.  Then  he  had  the  pirates  to 
look  out  for  and  avoid,  just  as  I  suppose  you  look  out  for 
old  Wyse,  when  you  come  past  over  his  fishing-grounds. 
Then  he  had  to  know  how  to  enter  all  the  ports,  perhaps 
in  the  dark.  And,  beside  all  this,  he  would  have  to  know 
a  good  many  languages,  and  be  able  to  drive  a  bargain 
in  them,  because  he  would  have  to  do  his  own  buying 
and  selling.  You  may  have  seen  the  French  onion- 
sellers  in  the  towns  near  our  coasts  selling  onions  at  the 
cottage-doors.  Well,  the  old  Phoenician  traders  had  to 
sell  their  goods  in  something  the  same  way  ;  only,  as 
they  never  knew  when  they  might  meet  enemies,  they 
went  armed,  in  parties,  instead  of  like  the  onion-sellers. 
And  when  all  his  cargo  was  sold  it  had  to  be  paid  for, 
and  the  payment  was  probably  not  often  in  money,  or 
even  precious  metal,  but  in  kind,  either  raw  or  manu- 
factured. And  the  poor  old  sailor  had  to  reckon  up  his 
takings  in  all  sorts  of  ways.  He  didn't  make  out  his 
accounts,  as  you  would,  in  round  sums  :  '  From  Mr. 
Ramses,  two  pounds  ;  from  Mr.  Sennacherib,  two  pounds  ; 
from  Mr.  Themistokles,  five  pounds.'  It  wasn't  such  plain 
sailing  as  all  that.     He  had  to  set  down  the  most  various 

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things — cows,  hides,  pigs,  copper,  pottery,  woven  stuffs, 
wine,  jewels,  gold,  jade,  tin,  furs,  ivory,  balm,  grain, 
dried  fish,  perfumes,  armour,  boys,  dwarfs,  slaves,  etc. 
And  he  had  to  reckon  up  not  only  what  these  things  were 
worth  in  the  countries  in  which  he  got  them,  but  what 
they  would  fetch  when  he  got  home.  Merchant  captains 
have  to  do  these  things  even  nowadays  in  little-known 
and  savage  lands.  In  more  civilised  lands  they  generally 
get  them  done  by  the  agents  of  their  firm.  But  in  those 
old  days  they  did  them  as  a  matter  of  course.  You  will 
see,  therefore,  that  the  sailor,  especially  the  sea-captain, 
of  long  ago  was  a  man  who  could  not  get  on  without  a 
great  variety  of  talents,  as  well  as  a  great  deal  of  physical 
strength." 

"  And  how  far  did  they  go,  sir  ?"  Robin  asked.  **  The 
Phoenicians  came  to  Britain,  didn't  they  ?" 

"  Yes,  it  is  thought  so.  Early  navigators — Phoenicians, 
Greeks,  and  Egyptians — crept  from  coast  to  coast  on 
the  Mediterranean,  planting  colonies  wherever  they 
thought  there  would  be  profit  or  advantage.  Wherever 
they  could  work  mines,  fisheries,  plantations,  or  establish 
a  good  strong  position,  they  planted  a  little  colony — 
nearly  all  the  ports  on  the  Mediterranean  were  early 
colonies :  Syracuse,  Carthage,  Marseilles,  Saguntum,  and 
Tarragona,  and  numberless  other  less  important  places — 
and  at  last  stole  along  the  coast  to  Britain.  Some  of  the 
Phoenicians  are  supposed  to  have  crept  to  trade  for  tin 
in  Cornwall,  or  among  the  submerged  parts  of  Cornwall, 
of  which  the  Scilly  Islands  are  the  hill-tops.  You  will 
remember  how  often  in  the  Bible  you  come  across  men- 
tion of  Tarshish.     You  may  recollect  how  Jonah  ran  away 

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into  a  ship  bound  to  Tarshish,  *  and  paid  the  fare  thereof/ 
just  as  you  would  pay  for  a  ticket  in  a  steamer  bound  to 
America.  Tarshish,  or  Tartessus,  is  thought  by  some  to 
be  Cadiz.  Others  think  it  was  just  inside  the  Mediter- 
ranean, very  close  to  Gibraltar.  We  know  from  Ezekiel 
that  *  Tarshish  was  thy  merchant,  by  reason  of  the  multi- 
tude of  all  kinds  of  riches,  silver,  iron,  tin,  and  lead  ;" 
and  besides  these  minerals  there  were,  and  are  still,  very 
valuable  fisheries.  If  you  look  in  Ezekiel,  you  will  see 
that  the  Phoenician  ships  were  built  with  '  boards  of  fir- 
trees  of  Hermon,'  that  their  masts  were  made  of  *  cedars 
of  Lebanon,'  their  oars  of  '  oaks  of  Bashan,'  their  benches 
of  box-wood  inlaid  with  ivory,  their  '  sails  of  fine  linen, 
with  broidered  work  from  Egypt,  blue  and  purple  from 
the  isles.'  Xenophon,  in  his  '  (Economicus,'  praises  the 
beautiful  order  of  a  big  Phoenician  ship  which  he  saw  at 
Athens.  He  makes  it  clear  that  even  then  ships  were 
fitted  '  with  many  machines  to  oppose  hostile  vessels, 
many  weapons  for  the  men,  all  the  utensils  for  each  com- 
pany that  take  their  meals  together,'  besides  the  freight 
of  merchandise,  and  the  men  themselves.  Yet  all  these 
things,  he  says,  *  were  stowed  in  a  space  not  much  larger 
than  is  contained  in  a  room  that  holds  half  a  score  dinner- 
couches.'  How  big  do  you  suppose  that  would  be,  eh  ? 
Xenophon  says  that  an  officer,  called  '  the  man  of  the 
prow,'  had  charge  of  all  the  ship's  gear.  You  may  judge 
from  all  this  that  the  Phoenician  ships  were  handsome 
and  their  discipline  strict.  You  can't  have  an  orderly 
ship  without  a  pretty  strict  discipline.  The  Greeks  said 
that  the  Phoenician  ships  were  faster  than  their  own.  I 
dare  say  they  made  sixty  or  seventy  miles  a  day  at  their 

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best  pace.  Would  you  like  to  hear  what  they  did  in 
the  way  of  discovery,  or  are  you  bored  by  this  time  ? 
You  don't  seem  to  be  catching  many  fish." 

'*  We  should  like  to  hear  very  much,  sir,"  said  Mac. 
'*  The  fish  aren't  biting." 

"  I  wish  we  had  a  dart  tied  on  to  aline,"  said  Robin  ; 
"  then  we  could  jab  it  down,  and  I  dare  say  we  could  catch 
them  that  way." 

"  Well,  you  wouldn't,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  But 
there's  no  harm  in  your  trying  some  day,  as  long  as  you 
don't  fall  in  when  you  '  jab  it  down.'  " 

"  Well,  won't  you  tell  us  about  the  Phoenicians,  sir  ? 
What  did  they  do  besides  go  trading  ?  Did  they  only  go 
trading  ?" 

"  Very  few  people  go  anywhere  without  some  hope  of 
profit,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  Adventure  for  adven- 
ture's sake  doesn't  appeal  to  men  as  clever  as  the  Phoe- 
nicians. But  trade  has  a  way  of  exciting  all  sorts  of 
rivalries.  And  when  the  Phoenicians  and  Egyptians 
and  Greeks  found  themselves  with  money  in  hand  and 
all  sorts  of  precious  things  to  sell,  they  began  to  look 
about  for  new  markets  in  which  to  sell  them.  The  coasts 
of  the  Mediterranean  were  dotted  with  little  markets, 
all,  perhaps,  overstocked.  The  natives  of  Tarshish  and 
other  places  had  become  sufficiently  civilised  to  charge 
higher  prices  for  their  minerals.  And  the  merchants 
realised  that  the  old  days  of  high  profits  were  gone  for 
ever,  unless  they  went  farther  afield  to  people  more 
ignorant  of  the  values  of  things. 


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Chapter  VII 


HE  most  remarkable  of  all  the 
old  voyages  was  undertaken  at 
the  prompting  of  King  Neco  of 
Egypt  who*reigned  in  the  seventh 
century  before  Christ.  Neco  was 
the  King  who  killed  Josiah, 
King  of  Judah,  at  the  Battle  of 
Megiddo,  during  an  invasion  of 
Palestine.  He  was  an  ambitious  man.  He  tried  to 
link  the  Mediterranean  with  the  Red  Sea.  by  running 
a  canal  from  the  Nile  to  the  Gulf  of  Suez.  When  he 
found  that  he  could  not  do  this  (I  suppose  the  engineers 
weren't  equal  to  it,  or  the  cost  was  too  great),  he 
thought  that  he  might  find  a  passage  down  the  east 
coast,  round  the  south  of  Africa,  up  the  west  coast  to 
Gibraltar,  and  back  to  Egypt  along  the  Mediterranean. 
We  do  not  know  how  much  he  knew,  but  you  need  not 
think  that  a  very  practical  King,  who  had  had  all  the 
nonsense  knocked  out  of  him  in  war,  would  send  out  a 
costly  expedition  wholly  *  on  spec'  He  must  have 
known  that  the  east  coast  of  Africa  runs  very  far  to  the 
south,  and  that,  on  the  whole,  it  trends  slightly  to  the 
west.  He  may  have  heard  from  the  reports  of  savages 
that    in   time    it   bends    away   to   the   west   altogether. 

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Savages  can  often  draw  astonishingly  accurate  maps  of 
the  countries  known  to  them.  There  was  probably  a 
continual  flow  of  slaves  from  the  heart  of  Africa  into 
Egypt  and  Phoenicia,  and  it  is  only  reasonable  to  suppose 
that  some  of  these  slaves  either  knew,  or  had  heard,  of 
the  shape  of  Africa  far  to  the  south,  and  had  told  what 
they  knew  to  their  masters.  As  for  the  west  coast,  the 
Phoenicians  had  sailed  into  the  Atlantic  many  times. 
They  knew  that  the  western  African  coast  trended  away 
to  the  south  and  east.  They  were  justified,  therefore, 
in  supposing  that  the  two  coasts  inclining  towards  each 
other  might  run  into  each  other  before  very  long.  So 
Neco  hired  a  picked  company  of  Phoenician  sailors  to 
make  the  attempt  to  get  round  Africa  from  the  east. 

"  The  expedition  sailed  from  a  port  on  the  Red  Sea.  It 
probably  consisted  of  many  ships  well  equipped  both  for 
war  or  trade.  The  name  of  the  leader  has  not  been  pre- 
served. He  hugged  the  shore  all  the  way,  partly  because 
he  didn't  want  to  get  lost,  but  also  because  he  was  ex- 
pected to  report  on  the  nature  of  the  unknown  land,  its 
commodities,  and  the  possibilities  of  trade  there.  After 
about  three  years  he  got  right  round,  through  the  Straits 
of  Gibraltar,  and  back  to  Egypt,  where  he  handed  in  a 
tale  which  very  few  people  believed.  He  said  that  '  in 
getting  round  Africa  they  had  the  sun  on  the  right 
hand  ' — that  is,  of  course,  the  north.  The  journey  was 
very  slow.  The  men  had  probably  been  ordered  to 
proceed  slowly,  so  as  to  examine  the  country  thoroughly. 
They  started  without  provisions  enough  to  bring  them 
home  ;  so  every  year  the  men  landed  at  some  favourable 
spot,  hauled  up  and  secured  their  ships,  built  themselves 

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a  stronghold,  cleared  the  ground,  sowed  it,  and  stayed 
till  they  had  reaped  the  crop.  In  this  way  they  were 
able  to  test  the  fertility  of  the  land,  and  to  explore  it 
to  some  distance  to  find  out  what  it  was  like.  I  sup- 
pose they  would  have  to  wait  about  three  months  for 
each  harvest,  or  perhaps  a  little  less,  if  the  land  were  very 
fertile." 

**  Please,  sir,"  said  Mac,  **  didn't  the  natives  go  for 
them  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  **  Perhaps  not. 
You  see,  even  cannibals  are  often  glad  to  trade.  And  I 
dare  say  the  Phoenicians  were  cleverer  with  savages  than 
white  men  armed  with  guns.  A  savage  to  a  white  man  is 
a  new  sort  of  wild  bird  for  him  to  shoot  at.  The  Phoeni- 
cians knew  savages  better  than  that.  Besides,  the 
Phoenicians  were  probably  extremely  careful  not  to  land 
in  any  place  where  the  natives  didn't  want  them.  They 
were  looking  for  trading  places,  not  for  possessions. 
They  didn't  want  to  fight.  They  knew  that  if  they 
began  to  fight  they  would  very  likely  get  killed  them- 
selves, while  they  would  make  it  impossible  for  any  of 
their  own  race  to  land  there  after  them.  And  there  is  a 
very  good  old  English  sailor  who  had  a  wide  experience 
of  savages  of  all  kinds.  He  said  that  he  didn't  believe 
that  any  race  in  the  world  would  kill  a  man  who  made 
friendly  signals.  I  expect  the  Phoenicians  went  along 
the  African  coast  just  as  you  go  along  the  river.  I 
expect  that  whenever  they  came  to  a  place  where  they 
wanted  to  land,  they  sent  to  ask  leave  of  the  chiefs  before 
they  landed.  *  Please,  Mr.  Wyse,  may  I  land  on  your 
field  and  look  for  gold  ?'     '  Yes,  if  you  don't  disturb  my 

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pheasants.'  '  Please,  Mr.  Hampden,  may  I  dive  in 
370ur  lake  and  look  for  pearls  ?'  '  Yes,  if  you  don't 
shoot  my  herons.'  You  see  ?  There's  always  a  polite 
way  of  going  exploring,  as  well  as  the  Mac  and  Robin 
way." 

*'  Please,  sir,"  said  Robin,  grinning  at  the  thrust, 
"  did  they  really  get  round  Africa,  or  is  it  only  a  yarn  ?" 

*'  I  should  think  they  really  got  round,"  he  answered, 
"  because  they  couldn't  have  imagined  the  sun  being  on 
their  right  hand,  to  the  north  of  them.  That's  the  last 
sort  of  proof  a  man  would  invent.  They  actually  saw 
it,  that's  certain.  And  that,  at  any  rate,  is  a  proof  that 
they  went  south  of  the  line.  And  if  they  went  so  far, 
why  shouldn't  they  have  gone  the  whole  way,  coasting 
as  they  did  ?  And  I  count  it  another  proof  that  they 
really  went  that  nobody  went  after  them.  They  came 
back  with  news  that  the  route  was  there,  but  that  it 
was  of  little  use,  and  very  perilous  and  costly.  And 
having  given  out  that  report,  it  blocked  the  way  to 
future  explorers." 

"  And  how  was  it,  sir,"  said  Robin,  "  that  it  really  got 
discovered  ?" 

"  It  was  done  bit  by  bit,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  The 
next  real  attempt  to  get  round  was  made  from  Carthage, 
from  the  other  side  of  Africa,  about  a  century  after  Neco. 
The  Carthaginians  were  great  merchants,  like  the  Tyrians. 
They  prospered ;  they  became  very  rich  and  strong. 
They  were,  of  course,  originally  pure  Phoenicians  ; 
but  as  time  went  on  many  of  them  intermarried  with 
Africans.  In  time  a  great  many  of  the  citizens  were 
half-breeds,  or,  as  they  called  them,  *  Liby-Phoenicians.' 

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The  pure  Carthaginians  did  not  like  these  half-breeds. 
They  were  jealous  and  distrustful  of  them,  and  grudged 
them  a  fair  share  in  the  government  of  the  city.  About 
the  year  520  B.C.  it  was  decreed  in  Carthage  that  a  great 
number  of  the  half-breeds  should  leave  the  city,  and 
found  cities  for  themselves  on  the  Atlantic  coast  of  Africa. 
Sixty  ships,  of  fifty  oars  each,  were  made  ready,  and 
thirty  thousand  men  and  women  embarked  as  colonists. 
The  fleet  was  large,  but  with  transports,  victual-ships, 
and  supply-ships  added  to  it,  there  must  have  been  an 
immense  armada,  covering  many  miles  of  sea. 

"  The  fleet  passed  Gibraltar,  and  turned  south-west 
down  the  African  coast.  Two  days'  sail  down  they 
founded  their  first  city.  A  little  farther  on,  on  a  wooded 
cape,  which  is  now  called  Cape  Cantin,  they  built  a 
temple  to  Dagon,  and  explored  inland  for  a  few  miles 
to  a  reedy  lake,  where  elephants  and  other  wild  beasts 
were  feeding.  Then  they  put  to  sea  again,  and  kept 
on  down  the  shore,  founding  cities  at  intervals,  and 
hearing  strange  tales  of  the  interior  from  the  nomad 
natives  with  whom  they  made  friends,  and  from  whom 
they  got  interpreters  for  use  farther  to  the  south.  They 
sailed  up  the  Senegal  River  into  a  lake,  where  they  were 
pelted  with  stones  by  some  wild  men  dressed  in  skins. 
In  another  river  they  saw  many  crocodiles  and  hippo- 
potami. Then  they  sailed  north  again  to  a  little  island 
called  Cerne,  where  they  had  made  the  most  important 
of  their  settlements. 

"  After  a  rest  at  Cerne,  they  made  another  journey  to 
the  south  for  twelve  days,  always  hugging  the  land. 
The  natives  in  these  parts  were  wild  Ethiopians,  who 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

spoke  a  tongue  which  the  interpreters  could  not  under- 
stand. They  paused  at  Cape  Verde,  to  examine  the 
timber  of  the  trees  with  an  eye  to  its  value.  They 
found  some  of  it  to  be  sweet-smelling.  Then  they  sailed 
on  again,  still  farther  to  the  south,  passing  a  low  land 
which  seemed  to  be  full  of  fire.  They  landed  on  this 
land,  and  found  *  wood  ashes,*  and  then  encamped  there. 
In  the  night  they  were  startled  by  the  noise  of  drums, 
flutes,  and  cymbals.  Men  were  shouting  somewhere, 
and  fire  was  breaking  out  again.  The  Carthaginians 
were  badly  scared,  and  got  to  sea  again  in  a  hurry, 
urged  on  by  '  the  prophet,'  who  had  apparently  come 
with  them.  They  sailed  on  for  several  days  past  moun- 
tains and  streams  of  fire,  till  they  reached  an  island,  in 
which  there  was  a  lagoon,  with  an  island  in  it,  just  like 
this  lake.  But  on  the  island  were  a  lot  of  large  apes, 
which  the  interpreters  called  gorillas.  The  sailors  mis- 
took them  for  hairy  men,  and  tried  to  catch  them. 
They  beat  away  the  males  after  a  fight,  and  caught  three 
females  alive.  They  wished  to  bring  these  to  the  ships, 
but  they  bit  and  scratched  so  badly  that  the  men  had  to 
kill  them.  They  skinned  them,  and  took  their  skins  as 
a  trophy.  After  this,  having  now  run  short  of  pro- 
visions, they  set  sail  back  to  Carthage,  where  they  arrived 
safely.  They  hung  up  the  hairy  skins  of  the  gorillas 
in  the  temple  of  Juno  in  Carthage,  where  they  remained 
till  the  city  was  destroyed." 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  the  boys,  "  what  were  the  moun- 
tains and  streams  of  fire  which  they  saw  ?" 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  **  it  is  said  that  the  natives 
of  those  parts  burn  off  the  reeds  and  dried  grass  from  the 

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ground  near  their  villages  every  autumn.  The  jungle 
is  extremely  dry,  and  burns  with  a  splendour  we  can 
hardly  imagine.  But  I  dare  say  you've  seen  them  burning 
leaves  in  huge  heaps  on  the  sides  of  Brown  Willy  yonder, 
haven't  you  V 

"  Yes,"  the  boys  answered,  "  they  had  often  seen  it ; 
and  heaps  so  big  that  the  hill  seemed  to  be  on  fire." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  "  I  expect  that  what  the 
Carthaginians  saw  was  just  that.  They'd  never  seen 
anything  like  it  before  at  home,  and  they  were  in  an  un- 
known part  of  the  world,  where  anything  dreadful  might 
happen  at  any  minute  ;  so  it  frightened  them,  as  I  expect 
it  would  have  frightened  you — just  a  few  negroes  burn- 
ing off  the  jungle,  so  that  the  snakes  and  lions  shouldn't 
come  too  near  their  villages,  or  in  order  to  improve  the 
ground  for  the  next  season's  crops.  Of  course,  it  might 
not  have  been  that.  The  fire  may  have  been  an  inven- 
tion of  the  Carthaginians  to  frighten  people  and  keep 
them  away.  The  Carthaginians  may  have  had  reasons 
for  keeping  the  coast  to  themselves.  We  do  not  know 
whether  the  cities  founded  by  them  came  to  much. 
Probably  they  were  never  very  prosperous.  But  Cerne — 
the  little  island  half  a  mile  across— flourished  as  a 
trading-station  for  at  least  a  century  and  a  half.  It  is 
now  doubtful  where  Cerne  was,  but  some  think  it  was  the 
island  Heme  at  the  mouth  of  the  Rio  Douro.  You  can 
see  it  on  the  map  when  we  go  in. 

"  It  is  said  that  another  expedition  sailed  from 
Carthage  to  explore  to  the  north,  along  the  western 
European  coast,  while  Hanno  was  exploring  to  the 
south.     It  is  very  doubtful  if  the  expedition  ever  sailed. 

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If  it  did  sail,  an  account  of  it  will  just  show  you 
how  the  Carthaginians  took  pains  to  discourage  trade 
rivals.  Himilco,  the  leader  of  this  expedition,  is  said  to 
have  taken  four  months  to  get  from  Carthage  to  some 
unknown  cape  with  islands  about  it.  This  seems  to 
have  been  Cape  Ushant,  in  Brittany.  From  this  part 
the  expedition  seems  to  have  been  driven  out  into  the 
Atlantic.  Sometimes  his  ships  were  surrounded  with 
fogs,  sometimes  clogged  with  seaweed,  and  always 
becalmed.  The  sea  clogged  with  seaweed  can  only  be 
the  Sargasso  Sea.  You  will  note  how  the  last  touch, 
which  implied  that  the  sailors  going  to  these  seas  had  to 
row  continually,  would  discourage  sailors  who  had  to 
row  whenever  the  wind  failed.  Lastly,  the  sea  was 
full  of  horrible  creatures.  These  two  voyages  were  the 
two  greatest  ancient  explorations  into  the  Atlantic.  We 
may  judge  from  them  that  the  Carthaginians,  besides 
being  very  energetic,  were  very  brave  and  daring  sailors. 
"  Their  method  of  trading  with  savage  people  was 
curious.  On  the  West  Coast  of  Africa,  in  the  wilder 
parts,  where  the  savages  were  very  shy,  they  never  saw 
the  people  with  whom  they  bargained.  They  landed 
their  goods  on  the  sea-shore,  and  spread  them  out  on  the 
beach,  so  that  they  could  be  seen.  Their  goods  were 
probably  the  sort  of  goods  savages  are  fond  of  now — 
cheap  weapons,  bright-coloured  cloth,  gay  beads,  orna- 
ments, wine,  salt,  oil,  and  glass.  When  they  had  spread 
these  things  upon  the  beach,  the  Carthaginians  went  back 
to  their  ships  and  made  a  smoke,  to  tell  the  savages  of 
their  presence.  In  the  night  the  savages  came  to  the 
shore,  examined  the  goods,  and  laid  beside  each  heap  as 

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much  gold,  ivory,  or  spices  as  they  thought  the  goods 
were  worth.  The  next  morning  the  traders  went  again 
to  the  beach  to  see  how  much  the  natives  had  bid.  If 
they  were -satisfied  with  the  amount  of  the  gold  offered, 
they  took  it,  and  left  the  goods  to  the  savages.  If  they 
were  not  satisfied,  they  left  both  heaps  untouched,  as  a 
sign  that  the  savages  should  add  to  their  bid.  If  the 
natives  thought  well  of  it,  they  added  to  it,  bit  by  bit, 
night  after  night,  till  they  had  reached  their  limit,  or  till 
the  Carthaginians  were  satisfied.  It  is  said  that  both 
sides  were  extremely  honest  in  their  dealings. 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  Robin,  "  what  were  the  ancient 
Britons  doing  then  ?     Weren't  they  exploring  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  '*  The  people  living  in 
Kent  may  have  had  a  little  trade  with  the  north-west 
coast  of  France,  and  for  many  years,  both  before  and 
after  Himilco's  time,  people  of  Phoenician  stock  may 
have  come  to  Cornwall  for  tin ;  but  the  Britons 
of  these  days  were  a  low  and  probably  very  scanty 
population,  split  into  tribes.  They  weren't  sea-going 
people,  as  far  as  we  know." 

"  When  do  we  begin  to  know  about  them  ?"  Mac 
asked,  in  some  despair.  He  had  a  notion  that  Britons 
had  always  been  the  best  and  most  daring  sailors  of  the 
world.  Mr.  Hampden  was  telling  him  of  seamen  who 
did  wonderful  things  hundreds  of  years  before  even  the 
Romans  came.     It  was  hurting  to  his  national  pride. 

**  We  begin  to  know  about  Britain,"  said  Mr.  Hampden, 
"  from  a  Greek  who  must  have  lived  aSout  330  B.C. 
He  was  a  native  of  the  Greek  colony  of  Massilia,  the 
modern  Marseilles.     His  name  was   Pytheas.     His  own 

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account  of  his  travels  no  longer  exists,  but  we  know 
fairly  well  what  he  did  from  the  writings  of  those  who 
criticised  and  disbelieved  him.  Apparently  he  sailed 
into  the  Atlantic  from  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar,  and  then, 
after  a  stop  at  Gades,  coasted  north,  rounded  Cape 
Finisterre,  along  the  north  of  Spain,  into  what  is  now 
the  Bay  of  Biscay.  He  then  crept  along  the  French 
coast  till  he  reached  Cape  Ushant.  What  he  did  next 
is  not  so  certain,  but  he  probably  learned  at  some  of  the 
islands  near  Cape  Ushant  (where,  if  you  will  remember, 
Himilco  had  obtained  his  tin)  of  the  tin-producing 
country  in  the  north-west.  His  next  step  was  to  visit 
this  country.  He  examined  the  mining  districts  in 
Cornwall.  He  is  reported  to  have  said  that  the  in- 
habitants of  those  parts  were  more  civilised  than  the 
rest  of  the  British.  They  were  carrying  on  a  pretty  brisk 
trade,  as  they  had  done,  it  may  be,  for  six  centuries. 
They  smelted  the  metal  on  the  mainland,  and  carried  it 
off  in  carts  to  an  island,  which  was  joined  to  the  mainland 
by  an  isthmus,  left  quite  dry  at  low  water.  Some  people 
think  that  this  island  was  the  Isle  of  Wight,  but  there 
can  be  very  little  doubt  that  it  was  St.  Michael's  Mount, 
opposite  Market  Jew,  in  South  Cornwall. 

"  Pytheas  seems  to  have  stayed  a  fairly  long  time 
in  Britain.  Some  think  he  travelled  right  across  the 
island  from  the  south  to  the  north.  He  found  it  very 
rainy  (probably  far  more  rainy  than  it  is  now,  when 
so  much  of  the  forest  has  been  cleared),  and  rather 
cold.  The  people  drank  a  sort  of  wine,  or  mead,  made  of 
*  corn  and  honey.'  They  also  threshed  their  corn  in 
barns,  on  account  of  the  rain.     In  the  north  he  saw  the 

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extraordinary  tide-rips  in  the  Pentland  Firth,  and 
heard  of  an  island  called  Thule,  lying  in  the  sea,  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  frozen  ocean,  to  the  north  of 
Britain.  This  Thule  may  have  been  Iceland,  but  it  was 
much  more  probably  one  of  the  Shetland  Islands.  He 
did  not  visit  Thule.  After  reaching  the  north  of  Britain, 
he  seems  to  have  gone  to  a  part  of  what  is  now  Fries- 
land,  where  amber  is  cast  up  by  the  sea.  After  this  he 
returned  to  Marseilles,  where  he  made  some  curious 
calculations  for  the  determination  of  the  latitude.  As 
far  as  I  know,  he  was  the  last  European  explorer  to 
reach  Britain  before  Julius  Caesar's  spies,  three  centuries 
later." 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  Mac,  "  how  could  the  Phoenicians 
have  traded  with  Cornwall,  if  so  little  was  known  about 
the  way  there  ?  If  a  lot  of  ships  had  been  going  there 
all  the  time,  surely  the  way  there  would  have  been  well 
known  to  hundreds  of  people,  and  nobody  would  have 
thought  it  odd  that  Pytheas  should  have  gone  to  such  a 
place." 

"  That's  a  very  good  point,"  said  Mr.  Hampden ; 
"  but  I  think  that  what  the  Phoenicians  did  was  cheaper 
and  less  risky  than  going  all  the  way  by  sea.  They 
learned  that  there  was  a  way  by  sea,  but  that  it  was  only 
safe  in  the  summer,  and  not  very  safe  even  then.  I 
dare  say  you  know  how  dangerous  Cape  Finisterre  and 
the  Bay  of  Biscay  are  to  ships.  To  little  ships  like  those 
of  the  Phoenicians  they  must  have  been  deadly.  No  ; 
what  the  Phoenicians  probably  did  was  this  :  They 
probably  seized  or  leased  a  strong  position  near  the 
smelting-works,  and  fortified  it,  by  running  a  trench  or 

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two,  and  sticking  up  a  palisade  on  the  wall.  They  took 
care  to  choose  a  position  which  would  command  and  give 
safe  access  to  a  safe  anchorage.  Of  course,  in  choosing 
their  camp,  they  took  great  care  to  choose  a  place  with 
a  good  water-supply.  When  they  had  established  them- 
selves in  their  camp — in  this  instance  St.  Michael's 
Mount — they  set  to  work  to  trade  for  the  tin  with  what- 
ever goods  the  natives  had  need  of.  Whenever  they 
had  secured  a  load  of  smelted  tin  they  despatched  it  in 
coast-boats  along  the  south  coast  to  some  Kentish  or 
Sussex  port,  from  which  the  shipmen  could  convey  it  to 
Gaul.  At  the  port  in  Gaul,  wherever  it  was — probably 
somewhere  in  Brittany — other  Phoenician  agents  took 
it  from  the  sailors,  packed  it  on  horseback,  and  saw  it 
off,  under  guard,  by  road  to  some  port  at  the  mouth  of 
the  River  Rhone.  The  tin  was  cast  into  lumps  called 
'  astragali.'  One  such  lump  was  found  many  years  ago 
at  the  mouth  of  Falmouth  Harbour.  It  is  shaped  some- 
thing like  a  clumsy  letter  '  H,'  with  the  central  cross-bar 
extremely  broad.  It  is  nearly  three  feet  long,  and  about 
a  foot  across,  and  weighs  nearly  one  hundred  and  thirty 
pounds.  It  is  supposed  that  its  peculiar  shape  made  it 
easy  to  handle  and  to  pack  on  horseback." 

"  And  how  long  did  the  Phoenicians  stay  in  Britain 
at  a  time  ?"  Mac  asked. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Mr.  Hampden — "  probably  a 
good  long  time.  They  were  doing  almost  exactly  what 
Europeans  did  in  the  various  East  India  Companies 
during  the  seventeenth,  eighteenth,  and  early  nineteenth 
centuries.  Young  fellows  went  out  to  the  East  then  to 
what  were  called  *  factories,'  or  little  settlements  of  mer- 

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chants,  whose  business  it  was  to  accumulate  freights  for 
the  yearly  fleets  which  came  to  transport  them  to  Europe. 
They  stayed  there,  learned  the  language  and  the  ways  of 
the  natives,  rose  from  some  low  position  to  a  position 
of  trust  if  they  were  clever,  sent  home  reports  from  time 
to  time,  and  got  leave  to  come  home  sometimes,  I  suppose, 
at  stated  intervals,  not  too  close  together." 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  Mac,  "  if  there  were  these  places  in 
Cornwall,  aren't  there  any  traces  of  them — buildings  or 
things — like  there  are  Roman  camps  ?" 

"  They  were  very  much  earlier  than  the  Romans,"  said 
Mr.  Hampden — "  anything  from  eleven  to  two  or  three 
hundred  years  before  them,  so  that  there  is  a  much 
smaller  chance  of  their  remains  surviving.  And,  then, 
they  weren't  conquerors  settled  here,  holding  the  country 
by  force,  as  the  Romans  were.  The  Romans  had  to 
build  great  camps  and  walled  towns.  They  were  here 
in  force,  many  thousands  of  them,  practically  all  over 
the  country.  The  Phoenicians  were  only  trading  in  one 
little  bit  of  the  country.  There  were  probably  very 
few  of  them,  and  those  few  were  merchants,  living  simply 
and  cheaply  in  a  few  bungalows,  which  may  have  been 
mere  wooden  sheds  like  cricket  pavilions.  They  wouldn't 
have  left  much  trace.  No  authentic  trace  of  the  Phoe- 
nicians has  been  discovered,  I  believe,  except  that  one 
queer  block  of  tin  from  Falmouth.  But,  then,  the 
goods  which  they  exchanged  for  the  tin  may  have  been 
very  perishable,  like  stuffs,  wine,  oil,  dates,  or  glass 
beads." 

"  But  is  it  known  where  the  old  tin- works  were  ?" 
said  Mac. 

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"  The  remains  of  a  very  ancient  melting  and  smelting 
furnace  were  found  on  the  mainland,  nearly  opposite  to 
the  Mount,  about  sixty  years  ago,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 
'*  They  were  laid  bare  from  under  the  sand  by  the  diver- 
sion of  a  watercourse.  They  were  buried  from  three  to 
six  yards  deep.  But  stream  tin- works  are  found  in 
several  parts  of  Cornwall,  generally  far  below  the  present 
surface  of  the  ground.  It  is  said  that  things  get  covered 
in  some  situations  to  the  depth  of  a  foot  in  a  century  by 
the  decay  of  vegetation  and  the  settling  of  drift.  So  you 
will  see  that  proof  of  the  Phoenicians  having  been  here 
may  be  rather  hard  to  find.  I  should  have  said  that, 
according  to  one  account,  the  Carthaginians  carried  on 
a  sea-trade  for  tin  with  Cornwall,  or  the  Scilly  Islands, 
from  Gades,  the  modern  Cadiz." 

"  I  read  in  a  book,"  said  Robin,  "  that  some  of  the 
names  in  Cornwall  are  Phoenician." 

"  Yes,"  Mr.  Hampden  answered  ;  ''  that  is  sometimes 
said.     But  I  believe  that  the  best  authorities  deny  it." 

"  It  would  be  rather  jolly,  sir,"  said  Mac,  "  if  we 
could  come  across  a  Phoenician  settlement — I  mean  a 
real  settlement — in  some  unknown  part  of  England. 
There  might  be  one,  mightn't  there,  sir?  in  some  wild 
part  of  Cornwall,  in  the  moors.  Or — I  know  what — down 
underground,  in  one  of  the  mines." 

Mr.  Hampden  shook  his  head. 

"  No  Phoenicians,"  he  said — "  no  such  luck.  But 
how  about  Britons  ?     Are  Britons  any  good  to  you  ?" 

"  Yes,"  the  boys  exclaimed.  "  Are  there  Britons 
still  ?"  They  had  a  moment's  wild  hope  that,  by  staying 
up  late,  they  might  conceivably,  somewhere,  see  a  few 

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woaded  creatures,  slinking  from  dens  on  the  hills  to  rob 
a  hen-roost,  and  slinking  back,  silent  as  the  grave,  furtive, 
going  in  Indian  file,  dodging  from  tree  to  tree  out  of  the 
moonlight,  leaving  no  footmarks,  stealthier  than  animals, 
dreading  the  sun.     Surely  there  might  be  some  still. 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Hampden  ;  "  but  we'll  have  a  look  at 
one  of  their  old  towns,  if  you  like.  And  now  you  must 
cut,  for  I've  got  work  to  do.     Pull  in." 


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Chapter  VIII 


FEW  days  afterwards  Mr.  Hampden 
asked  Mrs.  Shenstone  if  the  boys 
might  come  camping  with  him  on 
the  slopes  of  Brown  Willy,  the 
old  encampment,  eight  miles  away. 
She  was  very  pleased  to  give  the 
boys  permission.  "  Only,  please, 
Mr.  Hampden,  I'm  so  afraid  of 
their  shooting  each  other's  eyes  out 
with  those  horrid  catapults."  Mr.  Hampden  assured  her 
that  there  should  be  no  shooting  with  catapults.  The 
boys  promised  to  come  home  with  their  eyes  entire.  A 
day  was  fixed.  The  boys  talked  of  nothing  else.  The 
night  before  the  great  adventure  they  borrowed  the 
cook's  alarm  clock  when  they  went  to  bed,  lest  they  should 
oversleep,  and  so  be  late  in  starting.  They  lay  awake 
till  nearly  midnight,  talking  of  the  fun  they  were  going 
to  have,  and  of  the  splendid  early  morning  bathe  with 
which  they  would  open  the  day. 

At  five  the  next  morning  the  alarm  clock  woke  the 
boys.     They  turned  out  unwillingly. 
"  How  about  a  bathe  ?"  said  Mac. 
"  I   vote   we   don't   bathe,"    said    Robin.     "  It's   not 
supposed  to  be  good  for  you  so  early  as  this." 

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"  Funk  !"  said  Mac. 

'*  I'll  bathe  if  you  like,"  said  Robin. 

But  the  river  looked  very  cold  down  there  in  the  valley 
out  of  the  sun.     Mac  changed  the  conversation. 

"  I  vote,"  he  said — *'  I  vote  we  don't  have  breakfast 
in  the  larder.  I  vote  we  take  our  things  out  to  that  place 
on  Pinkan  Hill  where  there's  said  to  be  a  camp.  And 
we'll  pretend  we're  the  Romans,  going  to  march  on  Brown 
Willy.  And  we'll  unpack  our  baggage  there,  and  make  a 
fire,  and  cook  ourselves  some  bacon." 

Robin  wasn't  very  sure  about  Mac's  cooking  of  bacon. 

"  I  don't  think  we'll  have  any  bacon,"  he  said.  ''  The 
Romans  only  ate  corn,  'cos  I  asked  Mr.  Hampden." 

"  Well,  we'll  easy  nick  some  corn  out  of  the  feed- 
box,"  said  Mac.  "  And  I  know  what  we'll  do  :  we'll 
boil  the  corn  and  smash  it  up.  And  we'll  take  that  little 
sort  of  magnifier  with  a  handle." 

"  What  for  ?"  asked  Robin. 

*'  Signalling,"  said  Mac.  "  The  Romans  always  sig- 
nalled whenever  the  enemy  was  coming.  And  that's 
what  we'll  do.  And  you'll  have  a  lid  of  a  tin  or  some- 
thing, and  I'll  go  up  first  and  light  a  fire,  and  you  stand 
at  the  bottom,  or  somewhere,  and  I'll  flash  messages  to 
j^ou  ;  and  we'll  pretend  we're  sentries  keeping  guard." 

"  What  sort  of  messages  ?"  Robin  asked.  "  And  how 
do  you  flash  a  message  ?" 

"  Oh,"  said  Mac,  "  easily.  One  flash  means  '  All 
right  ';  two  flashes,  '  Enemy  in  sight  ';  three  flashes,  *  A 
lot  of  enemy  ';  four  flashes,  '  Prepare  to  receive  cavalry.' 
You  just  hold  your  flasher  up  to  the  sun  and  let  it  flash. 
The    soldiers   in   the  army  do   it.     You  can  see   it   for 

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miles,    especially  in  a  country  where   there's    a   lot  of 
sun." 

"  All  right,"  said  Robin,  not  quite  convinced.  "  But 
I  think  I  read  in  the  Boy's  Own,  or  somewhere,  that 
they've  got  some  dodge  for  an  alphabet  by  making  long 
and  short  flashes." 

The  sight  of  the  pleasant  country  food  in  the  larder — 
the  squares  of  honey,  the  bowls  of  cream,  the  butter 
pats,  and  the  great  ham,  frilled  with  white  paper — made 
them  change  their  plans.  Pinkan  Hill  seemed  far  off. 
They  thought  it  better  to  breakfast  where  they  were 
than  to  go  through  that  elaborate  "  grace  before  meat  " 
of  being  a  Roman  and  climbing  a  great  hill.  And  what 
boy  will  choose  corn  when  he  can  have  home-made  loaf 
and  honey  ?  The  Roman  plan  was  given  up  without 
shame.  The  boys  spread  themselves  a  table  in  the 
scullery  and  breakfasted.  Afterwards  they  provisioned 
themselves  for  the  campaign. 

They  selected  a  hunk  of  ham,  two  small  loaves  of 
brown  bread,  four  eggs,  and  a  piece  of  butter.  They 
cut  a  hole  in  one  of  the  loaves,  and  rammed  the  butter 
into  it.  They  boiled  the  eggs  on  the  spirit-lamp  before 
packing  them.  They  knew  a  lot  about  the  ways  of  eggs. 
Of  money  they  had  one  and  sevenpence  halfpenny  be- 
tween them.  It  was  enough  to  face  the  world  with. 
Each  took  a  handful  of  raisins  from  the  grocer's  big 
coarse  blue  paper  in  the  kitchen  cupboard.  They  packed 
the  spoil  tightly  into  Robin's  knapsack. 

"  Corn's  the  next  thing,"  said  Robin.  "  But  I  vote 
we  don't  boil  it.  Let's  grind  it  up,  like  the  Romans, 
and  eat  it  made  into  meal." 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  Yes,"  said  Mac,  "  we'll  find  a  stone  or  something, 
and  grind  it  up." 

They  slid  the  bolt  of  the  scullery  door,  and  crept  across 
the  courtyard  to  the  stable.  The  door  was  locked,  for 
it  was  still  much  too  early  for  the  men  to  be  about. 
The  swallows  were  busy,  darting  to  and  fro  in  quick, 
airy  swoopings,  each  dart  a  miracle  of  intellect.  As  they 
darted  they  uttered  little  faint  cries,  so  faint  and  fine 
that  they  sounded  like  the  clicking  of  their  feathers. 
Within  the  stable  one  of  the  horses  scraped  with  his  fore- 
foot. Bob,  the  carthorse,  shook  his  head,  rattling  the 
headstall.  The  smell  of  the  stable  was  pungent  in  the 
fresh  of  the  day.  The  stable  roof,  mossy  in  a  patch  or 
two,  was  sharp  in  the  sun  against  the  cool  dazzle  of  the 
blue  of  the  morning. 

"  Locked  !"  said  Mac.  "  Where  does  Jarge  put  the 
key  now  ?"  With  the  instinct  of  a  boy  he  looked  under 
the  great  stone  which  was  used  during  the  day-time  to 
hold  the  stable  door  open.  "  Here  it  is,"  he  said.  He 
opened  the  door.  Taffy,  the  cat,  jumped  from  his  perch 
on  the  feed-box,  yawned,  extending  clawing  forelegs, 
and  sauntered  out  into  the  light.  He  waited  for  an 
instant  at  the  threshold,  during  which  he  surveyed  the 
world,  and  had  a  few  longings  to  be  among  the  swallows. 
A  knowing  look  in  his  eye  told  of  what  passed  in  his 
mind.  He  made  a  half -step,  stopped,  and,  sitting  up, 
composed  the  fur  on  his  chest  with  his  little  red  tongue. 
Something  came  into  his  head.  He  looked  rapidly  to 
his  right,  and  patted  off  at  a  trot,  under  the  gate,  and 
away. 

**  I  wonder  what  he  saw,"  said  Robin. 

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"  I  wonder  where  he  goes,"  said  Mac. 

'*  I  fancy  he's  got  a  nest  somewhere  in  the  spinney 
on  the  other  side  of  the  river." 

"  I  wonder  what  a  cat's  day  is  hke,"  said  Mac.  "  It 
would  be  rather  interesting,  some  day,  to  follow  Taffy 
about  and  see  what  he  does." 


I  wonder  what  a  cat's  day  is  like.'  " 


"  I  expect  he  gets  a  good  deal  of  fun  out  of  things," 
said  Robin.  "  It  must  be  fun  to  catch  a  bird.  He's  a 
little  oner  at  catching  sparrows.  When  they're  half- 
fledged  he  gets  them  every  day." 

**  Yes,"  said  Mac.  "  Fancy  creeping  up,  as  he  does, 
behind  a  clod  or  something,  and  then  going  *  Pounce  !' 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

and   feeling  the   sparrow   in   your  claws.     It   must   be 
tremendously  exciting." 

*'  And  I  expect  mousing's  exciting,  too." 

"  He's  off  to  the  mill,"  said  Mac,  peering  down  the 
hill.  "  He'll  cut  across  the  bridge  to  the  spinney.  He 
gets  young  rabbits  there,  and  all  sorts  of  things.  Cats 
are  just  like  lions  really." 

"  It  must  be  rather  nice,"  said  Robin,  "  to  sleep  in  the 
stable,  and  be  able  to  see  in  the  dark.  The  loft  must  be 
a  grand  place.  It's  full  of  mice,  and  the  sparrows  come 
in  too.  There  are  lots  of  old  nests  there.  Mustn't  it 
be  fine  to  have  pads  on  your  feet,  so  that  you  can  go 
without  making  a  noise  ?" 

They  leaned  on  the  gate,  staring  after  the  cat,  now 
out  of  sight. 

"  What  I  would  like,"  said  Mac,  *'  if  I  were  a  cat, 
would  be  the  way  they  see  and  hear.  They  see  and  hear 
and  smell  things  so.  Fd  like  to  be  able  to  tell  who'd 
gone  across  the  road  by  just  sniffing — whether  it  was  a 
mouse,  or  a  snake,  or  a  man.  And  to  know  whether  a 
mouse-hole  had  a  mouse  in  it.  They  must  know  of  a 
whole  lot  that  goes  on  near  the  ground  which  we  never 
notice.  I'd  like  to  know  all  about  that.  It  must  be 
jolly  interesting." 

"  What  I'd  like,"  said  Robin,  "  wouldn't  be  that  so 
much  as  being  able  to  track  people.  I  expect  that  muddy 
road  "  (he  meant  the  track  of  sun-caked  red  clay  which 
led  past  the  house  to  the  mill)  "  would  be  like  a  book  to 
a  native.  He  could  tell  you  what  had  happened  on  it. 
I  say,  suppose  we  don't  start  just  for  a  bit,  but  try 
tracking  Taffy." 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

They^ looked  on  the  cobble-stones  of  the  yard  for  the 
marks  of  the  little  feet.  There  were  none  there  about 
which  they  could  be  sure. 

'*  I  suppose,"  said  Mac,  "  that  that's  why  cats  are  so 
afraid  of  getting  their  feet  wet  :  they  are  afraid  of  leaving 
tracks,  in  case  their  enemies  should  come  across  them 
and  follow  them  up." 

"  No  ;  I  don't  think  it's  that,"  said  Robin.  "  You 
know  old  Bill,  the  huntsman  ?  I  asked  him  about  that 
once.  He  said  that  any  kind  of  damp  is  good  for  scent. 
He  said  that  animals  don't  like  getting  their  feet  wet 
because  they  know  that  it  makes  their  scent  strong. 
Animals  hunt  by  smell,  not  by  sight." 

They  swung  themselves  over  the  gate  to  examine  the 
hard  earth  beyond.     There  was  no  trace  of  the  passage  of 
the  cat.     His  little  soft  pads  had  left  no  mark  which  the 
boys  could  recognise.     He  had  gone  padding  down  the 
track,  with   little   momentary  halts,  one   paw  lifted,  to 
make  sure  of  a  scent  or  a  noise.     Leaping  up  on  to  the 
parapet,  he  had  crept  across  the  bridge.     Then,  diving 
into  the  grass,  he  had  padded  swiftly  to  the  shelter  of 
the  hedge.     A  leap  took  him  into  the  spinney.     Then, 
very  softly,  like  a  big  caterpillar,  he  had  crawled  up-wind 
to  a  place  well  known  to  him.     Here,  in  the  shelter  of  a 
tussock  of  grass,  he  waited  for  the  first  young  rabbit  to 
come  within  spring.     Now  he  was  in  his  lair  in  the  dry, 
grassless  earth,  covered  with  withered  droppings,  below 
a  yew.     He  had  trodden  himself  a  little  hollow  there. 
It  was  on  the  outer  edge  of  the  bare  patch,  covered  by 
the  tree.     A  low-hanging  yew  branch  kept  the  lair  dry. 
A  grassy  patch,  clear  of  saplings,  lay  beyond.     He  had  a 

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good  look-out  there.  No  one  could  take  him  by  surprise. 
From  early  morning  until  late  afternoon  the  sun  beat  upon 
him  there,  roasting  his  little  sides.  But  at  meal-times, 
which  he  knew  to  the  minute,  he  would  trot  back  to  the 
house  for  whatever  was  going.  His  little  head  would 
pop  up  over  the  wall  just  as  the  maid  came  out  to  call 
him.  He  would  scamper  over  the  lawn  to  his  plate.  He 
had  been  for  four  years  and  five  months  in  the  house. 
Mac  was  thinking  how  queer  it  was  that  no  one  knew 
how  he  passed  his  day.  The  little  cat  who  shared  their 
home  was  as  great  a  mystery  as  the  just-seen  water-rat, 
who  disappeared  in  a  trail  of  floating  mud  under  the 
water. 

"  Not  much  use  looking  for  him  here,"  said  Robin, 
stooping  to  look  at  the  mud.  "  We'll  have  to  follow 
him  some  day." 

"  It  would  be  rather  fun,"  said  Mac,  "for  a  cat  who 
got  into  Mr.  Hampden's  place.  A  really  wild  cat  would 
have  a  fine  time  there.  I  wonder  cats  don't  do  it  more. 
I'd  go  wild  if  I  were  a  cat." 

**  They're  such  lazy  beasts,  cats.  They  like  the  fire," 
said  Robin.  "  And  they  get  very  fond  of  people  and 
places." 

"  They  say,"  said  Mac,  "  that  they  can  always  find 
their  way  back  to  places  which  they're  fond  of.  I  vote 
we  try  with  Taffy  some  day.  Take  him  to  Brown  Willy, 
and  turn  him  out  on  the  hill,  and  see  how  soon  he'd 
get  back." 

"  It'd  be  rather  cruel,"  said  Robin.  "  He  might  not 
get  back.  And  then  a  dog  might  get  him.  Or  a  keeper 
might  shoot  him.     And  they  aren't  used  to  going  long 

113  H 


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distances.  I've  read  of  them  coming  back  to  places 
with  their  feet  all  bleeding,  and  half-starved.  They're 
very  nervous  things,  cats  are.  They  get  too  frightened 
to  eat  when  they're  left  behind  like  that." 

"  I  wonder  how  they  find  their  way,  though,"  said  Mac. 

*'  Instinct,"  said  Robin. 

"  I  don't  know  about  instinct,"  said  Mac.  He  had 
been  peeping  into  one  of  the  books  in  Mr.  Hampden's 
room.  He  felt  that  he  had  something  new  to  say.  "  I 
believe  that  *  instinct  is  the  name  we  give  to  any  kind 
of  brain- work  which  we  don't  understand.'  I've  been 
reading  about  instinct,"  he  went  on.  "  I  was  reading  in 
an  awfully  interesting  book,  which  says  that  cats  can 
tell  whereabouts  they  are  by  the  sun.  When  they're 
turned  out  of  a  basket  into  some  strange  place  they 
always  look  up  at  the  sun,  so  as  to  get  the  direction  of 
the  place  they  came  from." 

"  Yes,"  said  Robin,  thinking  this  out.  "  But  what 
good  can  looking  at  the  sun  do  ?  They  may  have  been 
shut  up  in  a  box  under  the  seat  inside  a  railway-carriage 
for  hours.  Or  they  may  have  travelled  at  night.  Look- 
ing at  the  sun  wouldn't  help  them.  That  would  only 
give  them  the  points  of  the  compass  where  they  are.  It 
wouldn't  tell  them  where  they  came  from." 

**  It  would  in  a  way,"  said  Mac,  feeling  very  uncertain 
about  it.  Those  who  trust  to  books  must  take  care  to  go 
to  the  roots,  not  cropping  a  flower  here  and  there. 
"  And  then  they  have  a  '  sense  of  direction.'  They  sort 
of  feel  whereabouts  places  are,  even  when  they're  being 
carried  away  from  them  in  the  dark.  I  believe  you 
would  have  a  sort  of  feel  of  whereabouts  this  place  would 

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be  if  you  were  carried  off  one  night  by  robbers  and  hidden 
in  a  cave." 

"  Yes,  I  dare  say  I  should,"  said  Robin.     "  I  wonder 
if  there  are  any  robbers  about  here." 


A  highwayman  called  Bendigo,' 


**  There  used  to  be,"  said  Mac.  '*  There  were  robbers 
at  the  Trumpet  Inn.  They  were  under  a  highwayman 
called  Bendigo  Mitchell,  who  had  a  horse  called  Skater. 
He  used  to  rob  everybody  round  here,  and  bury  all  the 
gold   and   the   watches   and   things   under   an    oak-tree. 

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A    Book    of    Discoveries 

The  tree's  said  to  be  marked  with  a  cross,  if  one  could 
only  find  it.  And  he  had  secret  rooms  in  the  inn,  and 
sliding  panels.  And  he  pushed  men  down  through  trap- 
doors into  the  underground  river  after  he'd  robbed  them. 
And  then  they  would  wander  in  the  caves.  There's 
said  to  be  caves  for  miles  under  the  ground  there.     And 


" '  Send  ^500,  or  we  shall  sell  your  son  to  the  Turks.' 


people  up  on  the  top  would  hear  them  crying.  And  in 
one  of  the  caves  there's  a  secret  entrance,  and  Bendigo 
Mitchell  used  to  go  in  there  with  his  gang  to  consult ; 
and  they'd  have  masks  and  watchwords,  and  talk  in  a 
language  they'd  made  up  for  themselves,  like  the  gipsies. 
And  sometimes  they'd  go  out  at  night  and  carry  people 

116 


'  He  was  shot  on  the  London  road.'  " 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

off,  and  then  send  a  letter,  written  in  red  ink  to  look 
like  blood :  '  Send  ;f5oo,  or  we  shall  sell  your  son  to  the 
Turks.'  And  then  the  people  would  send  ;f5oo,  and  the 
robbers  would  let  the  son  go." 

"  I  hope  there  are  none  of  the  gang  about  now,"  said 
Robin,  rather  anxiously. 

"  I  don't  think  there  are,"  said  Mac.  **  I'm  almost 
sure  there  aren't.  There  might,  perhaps,  be  one  or  two 
in  the  caves.  But  there  are  detectives  now.  It  wouldn't 
be  any  good  their  being  robbers  now.  They'd  send  down 
detectives  from  Scotland  Yard,  and  the  detectives  would 
come  down  and  go  about  listening.  They'd  very  soon 
catch  them.  They'd  listen  at  doors,  and  watch  people 
to  see  if  they  gave  any  countersign.  The  robbers  have 
all  sorts  of  countersigns,  like  touching  the  left  eyebrow, 
or  biting  the  lip,  or  tapping  with  the  foot.  Each  counter- 
sign means  something,  like  *  That  merchant  has  a  bagful 
of  gold  upstairs,'  or  '  Saddle  the  horses,'  or  '  Yon  stranger 
suspects  us.     See  to  your  pistols.'  " 

"  What  became  of  Bendigo  Mitchell  ?"  Robin  asked. 

"  He  was  shot  on  the  London  road,"  said  Mac,  "  trying 
to  stop  the  King's  mails.  Anybody  can  be  shot  for 
trying  to  rob  the  King's  mails.  And  his  horse  Skater 
was  bought  by  one  of  the  men  in  the  coach." 

*'  It  would  be  rather  nice  to  invent  some  countersign," 
said  Robin,  secretly  glad  that  Bendigo  was  out  of  the 
way,  "  and  perhaps  have  another  person  in  the  gang. 
I  dare  say  Jarge  would  be  glad  to  join,  and  we  could  go 
about  and  consult." 

"  And  we  might  have  a  secret  language,  too,"  said  Mac. 
"  Or,   I    know    what.     There   are  nearly  always  gipsies 

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camped  on  Crookidean  Common.  How  would  it  be  if  we 
went  over  to  Crookidean,  and  got  the  gipsies  to  teach 
us  some  of  their  language  ?" 

"  What  sort  of  language  is  it  ?"  Robin  asked.  French 
he  knew,  and  Latin  he  knew,  but  what  was  *'  gipsy  *'  ? 
If  it  were  anything  like  the  others,  to  be  studied  like  the 
others,  he  "  desired  no  better  acquaintance." 

"  A  very  mysterious  language,"  said  Mac.  "  Oh,  the 
gipsies  are  wonderful  people.  They're  supposed  to  be 
Hindus,  or  perhaps  Indians  of  some  sort,  who've  been 
wandering  for  hundreds  of  years  in  their  caravans. 
And  they  go  about  selling  horses,  and  making  baskets 
and  things.  And  they  talk  this  strange  language  still. 
And  some  people  think  they're  the  ancient  Romans  ; 
they  call  themselves  all  sorts  of  Roman  names." 

"  I  don't  think  we'd  better  go  to  see  the  gipsies," 
said  Robin,  "  for  I've  heard  they  sometimes  steal  boys 
and  girls,  and  stain  their  faces  with  walnut-juice,  and 
carry  them  away  and  sell  them.  Or  perhaps  teach  them 
to  steal." 

"  That  was  long  ago  when  they  did  that,"  said  Mac. 

"  Well,  I  know  the  Crookidean  lot  are  a  pretty  bad 
lot,"  said  Robin,  "  'cos  Jarge's  mother  says  they  stole 
her  White  Leghorns.  And  I've  seen  one  of  them 
drunk — that  day  we  were  driving  back  from  the  flower 
show." 

Mac  put  the  gipsies  out  of  his  mind.  "  Well,  we  won't 
go  to  the  gipsies,  then,"  he  said.  "  But  we  might 
invent  a  language  for  ourselves.  And  where  should  we 
consult  ?" 

"  There's  a  very  good  place  in  the  disused  coal-cellar," 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

said  Robin.  **  We  might  easily  loosen  one  or  two  of 
the  bricks.  You  know  where  Taffy  goes  in  ?  Suppose 
we  pulled  out  a  few  bricks  there.  There's  the  lid  of  a 
soap-box  in  the  tool-shed.  Suppose  we  pulled  out  a 
few  bricks  from  the  hole  where  Taffy  goes  in  ;  then,  when 
we'd  made  a  hole,  we  could  hide  it  up  by  the  lid  of  the 
soap-box.  We  could  easily  do  that.  No  one  would 
notice.  Or  how  would  it  be  if  we  tried  to  make  a  sliding 
panel  ?" 

*'  That  would  be  rather  good,"  said  Mac,  "  if  we  could 
manage  it.  And  then  inside  the  coal-cellar  we  could 
have  our  bull's-eye  lantern." 

**  Yes,  yes  !"  said  Robin.  "  And  everyone  coming  to 
the  door  would  have  to  give  a  signal,  and  then  give  the 
countersign  before  we  should  let  him  in." 

"  I  don't  know  about  telling  Jarge,"  said  Mac  doubt- 
fully. "  Should  we  teach  Jarge  the  language  ?  I  think 
it  would  be  safest  only  to  teach  him  the  countersigns. 
You  see,  Jarge  is  rather  a  stupe.  He's  sure  not  to  be 
able  to  learn  a  language.  *  Wurn't  never  much  good  at 
book-learnin'.     'Ed  like  a  dumplin',  my  mother  says.'  " 


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Chapter  IX 


HE  boys  had  stopped  at  the  court- 
yard gate.  Robin  was  reminded 
suddenly  of  what  they  had  been 
discussing  before  robbers  were 
mentioned. 

"  I  say,"  he  said  ;  "  about  my 
knowing  whereabouts  this  place 
would  be,  supposing  I  were  carried 
away  by  robbers.  How  would  it 
be  if  we  were  to  try  that  some  night  ?  We  could  get 
Mr.  Hampden  to  blindfold  us,  and  drive  us  out  to  some 
place  where  we've  never  been  before.  It  wouldn't  have 
to  be  far.  Then  he  could  turn  us  round  two  or  three 
times,  and  leave  us  to  ourselves.  Then  we  should  see 
which  way  we  should  turn." 

''  I  somehow  think  we  should  generally  be  right," 
said  Mac.  "  But  it  would  be  fun  to  try.  I  vote  we  ask 
Mr.  Hampden." 

"  And  now  we'd  better  be  getting  our  corn,"  said  Robin. 
He  hove  open  the  feed-box  with  both  hands.  Inside 
was  the  measure,  worn  bright  with  the  continual  friction 
of  the  grain.  Robin  dipped  it  in,  thinking  how  much 
the  noise  of  the  slipping  corn  resembled  the  slipping  of 
shingle  after  the  bursting  of  a  wave. 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  How  much  corn  did  the  Romans  have  ?"  he  asked. 

"  A  goodish  lot,"  said  Mac.  "  They  got  a  great  bag 
full  every  month.  But  they  were  always  running  short." 
He  had  read  a  little  Caesar.  There  were  notes  about 
the  allowance  of  corn  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 

'*  It's  jolly  filling  stuff,  corn,"  said  Robin.  "  Better 
not  take  too  much  of  it." 

They  filled  a  cocoa-tin,  and  packed  the  tin  with  the 
rest  of  their  food.  After  this  they  moved  across  to  the 
boot-shed  on  the  other  side  of  the  yard. 

**  Did  it  ever  strike  you,"  said  Mac,  "  that  this  place 
would  make  a  jolly  good  fort  ?  If  you  were  to  barricade 
the  gate  there,  this  yard  would  be  just  like  the  inside 
of  a  fort.  There's  the  house  on  two  sides,  and  the  stable 
and  coach-house  on  that  side,  and  the  gate  and  all  these 
sheds  on  the  fourth  side." 

"  Yes,"  said  Robin.  "  And  so  are  some  of  the  other 
houses  about  here,  especially  the  old  ones.  I  wonder  if 
they  were  ever  meant  for  forts." 

"  I  expect,"  said  Mac.  "  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  they 
were — just  small  forts.  I  expect  people  had  to  live  in 
a  kind  of  fort  near  here  when  all  those  robbers  were  going 
about.     They'd  have  had  to." 

**  The  Welsh  used  to  come  as  far  as  here,"  said  Robin. 
"  They  used  to  ride  over  on  their  ponies,  to  drive  away 
the  cows." 

Mac  nodded.     He  knew  all  about  "  Taffy's  raid." 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said,  **  when  there  was  a  raid,  the 
people  got  up  in  the  loft  and  shot  through  the  slits  in 
the  wall.  I  say,  life  must  have  been  jolly  exciting  in 
those  days.     I  wonder  if  this  place  ever  stood  a  siege." 

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A    Book    of  Discoveries 

"  Mr.  Hampden  says  he  expects  that  this  place — I 
mean  all  this  hill — was  often  besieged  in  the  ancient 
Britons'  time.  It  was  one  of  their  cattle-pens,  he  says, 
where  they  kept  their  cattle  from  the  wolves." 

'*  Wolves  must  have  been  jolly  exciting.  Wolves  are 
bigger  than  collies.  I  wonder  what  it  was  like  when  there 
were  wolves  in  England.  I  wouldn't  have  cared  to  be 
out  late  when  there  were  wolves  about." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Robin — "  perhaps  the  house  was  built 
fort-shape  to  keep  out  the  wolves."  Both  boys  had  very 
vague  notions  of  time. 

"  I  wonder  if  we  should  find  any  wolves'  teeth  if  we 
were  to  go  digging  in  the  wood,"  said  Mac. 

The  boys  began  to  spread  out  their  stores  upon  the 
boot-shed  floor. 

"  Now  begin  at  the  beginning,"  said  Mac.  He  began 
to  tick  off  the  articles  upon  a  list.  "  Waterproofs, 
sweaters.  I  say,  must  we  carry  sweaters  ?  We  shall 
roast  long  before  we  get  there." 

"  It's  for  the  night,"  said  the  prudent  Robin.  "  It 
gets  jolly  cold  about  three  in  the  morning.  We  shall  be 
glad  of  sweaters.  Mr.  Hampden  told  us  to  be  sure  to 
bring  them." 

"  Well,  sweaters,  then,"  said  Mac,  with  a  sigh.  ''  Eight 
miles  with  all  this  load  on  our  backs." 

"  We've  got  eight  or  nine  hours  to  do  it  in,"  said  Robin. 
"  We  shall  be  all  right  if  we  get  along  before  the  sun's 
hot." 

"  Towel,"  said  Mac,  continuing  his  count.  *'  One  be- 
tween us  is  enough." 

"  Better  take  two,"  said  Robin.     "  We  may  get  a  dip 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

on  the  way.  There's  a  pretty  good  diving-place  where 
they've  stanked  up  the  stream.  And  there's  a  spring- 
board." 

"  Two  towels,"  said  Mac,  "  soap,  tooth-brushes, 
pumice,  scrubber,  tooth-paste,  sponge.  They'll  all  go 
in  one  sponge-bag.  Shove  'em  in,  Robin,  while  I  go 
on.  Next  thing's  boots.  We've  got  them  on.  Dubbing 
for  the  boots.  No  need  to  take  dubbing ;  it's  only  an  extra 
weight.  Scratch  off  dubbing.  Prog  and  corn.  Got  them 
both.  Kettle  and  matches.  There's  the  little  kettle. 
A  kettle's  an  awful  thing  to  pack  ;  it's  so  full  of  ends. 
I  vote  we  don't  take  a  kettle ;  we  can  do  without 
cocoa." 

"  Better  take  it,"  said  Robin.  "  I'll  carry  it.  Mr. 
Hampden  '11  want  cocoa.  And,  besides,  we  must  have 
a  kettle  to  boil  the  water.  Water's  full  of  the  germs  of 
things  until  it's  boiled.  You  can  get  typhoid  and  all 
sorts  of  things  from  drinking  unboiled  water." 

'*  How  d'you  know  ?"  said  Mac. 

"  'Cos  I  know,"  Robin  answered.  ''  I  know  that  that's 
why  so  many  soldiers  get  fever  when  there's  a  war. 
They  get  thirsty,  carrying  all  those  things  in  the  sun, 
and  then  they  drink  any  water  they  come  across,  and 
then  that  gives  them  the  germs.  So  they  get  fever.  I 
heard  Dr.  Parkin  say  that  typhoid  kills  a  lot  more 
soldiers  that  way  than  shrapnel  shells." 

*'  What  are  shrapnel  shells  ?" 

"  Shells  full  of  little  shells,  which  scatter  about  and 
burst  all  over  the  place." 

"  How  d'you  know  ?" 

"  'Cos   I  know.     It's  in   a  book   at   Mr.   Hampden's. 

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And  Dr.  Parkin  said  that  the  reason  the  Japanese  were 
so  good  against  Russia  was  because  they  sent  the  doctors 
ahead  of  the  army,  with  all  the  scouts,  to  mark  the  wells 
and  streams  and  things,  to  say  if  they  were  fit  to  drink. 
They  used  to  test  them  all  for  germs,  and  then  mark 
them.  And  then  all  the  soldiers  were  taught  that  they 
would  have  to  be  very  careful  not  to  drink  unmarked 

water,  no  matter  how  thirsty 
they  were,  because  they  were 
serving  Japan,  and  if  they 
went  and  gave  themselves 
typhoid  they  wouldn't  be 
able  to  serve  Japan.  So  that 
made  all  the  soldiers  jolly 
careful.  And  before  every 
battle  every  soldier  had  to 
V.  bathe  and  put  on  disinfected 
clothes,  so  that  if  he  was 
shot  the  bits  of  clothes  which 
were  driven  into  the  wound 
wouldn't  poison  him.  So  we'll 
take  the  kettle  and  the  pocket- 
filter,  too,  'cos  typhoid's  a 
jolly  dangerous  thing." 
**  Well,  you  can  carry  them,"  said  Mac  ungraciously, 
"  since  you're  so  keen  on  them.  Now,  what's  the  next 
thing  ?  Food.  We've  got  our  food.  Salt  ?  Run  and 
get  a  chunk  of  salt,  Robin.  Salt  is  very  important. 
We  might  want  to  be  hunters,  and  salt  things.  How 
do  you  salt  things  ?  Just  mix  the  salt  with  water,  and 
let  the  things  soak  ?" 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  Or  you  rub  it  in,"  said  Robin.     "  I'll  get  some  salt." 

He  fetched  it.     Mac  continued  to  read. 

"  Knives.  We  always  carry  knives.  Saucepan. 
Another  endy  thing,  almost  as  bad  as  the  kettle.  It 
won't  pack,  anyhow.  Well,  here's  the  saucepan.  We 
don't  want  much  else.  Blankets."  He  flung  down  the 
two  brown  travelling-rugs  which  were  to  serve  as 
blankets.     "  Now,"  he  said — "  now  to  pack." 

He  divided  the  articles  into  two  unequal  heaps.  They 
set  to  work  upon  them  to  roll  them  into  tight  bundles, 
protected  outwardly  by  the  waterproofs.  When  packed 
as  neatly  as  the  boys  could  pack  them  the  bundles  still 
looked  clumsy.  Mac  tossed  a  penny  to  decide  which  of 
them  should  have  the  first  spell  of  the  heavier  bundle  of 
the  two.  The  toss  was  won  by  Robin.  He  helped  to 
strap  the  load  to  his  brother's  shoulders. 

"  The  great  thing,"  he  said,  **  is  to  have  your  pack 
tight,  so  that  it  won't  waggle  about.  And  have  it  high 
enough  up.     That's  another  good  thing." 

Mac  strapped  on  Robin's  bundle.  They  took  their 
sticks  and  turned  out  of  the  courtyard  into  the  track. 

"  No  halts  till  we've  done  two  miles,"  said  Mac, 
'*  and  then  only  five  minutes  allowed.  It'll  be  a  real 
halt,  like  the  soldiers.  We  can  lie  down  and  change 
loads.  And  then  on  again.  And  when  we  get  to  the 
milestone  up  at  the  top  we'll  set  the  time,  and  try  to 
keep  the  soldier's  pace.  They  march  about  three  miles 
an  hour,  Mr.  Hampden  says.  And  no  one's  allowed  to 
drink  on  the  march." 

"  I  dare  say  we'll  get  some  ginger-beer  as  we  go  through 
Claton,"  said  Robin.     The  mention  of  drink  reminded 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

him  that  he  had  not  packed  the  httle  pocket-cup  from 
which  they  had  intended  to  drink  while  in  camp.  He 
hurried  back  to  get  it.  "  Now,"  he  said,  as  he  caught 
step  with  his  brother  at  the  top  of  the  rise—"  now  take 
the  time.  This  is  the  milestone.  This  is  where  we 
begin." 

It  was  twenty  minutes  to  six.     The  sun  was  already 


" '  This  is  the  milestone.     This  is  where  we  begin.'  " 

blinking  out  disc-dazzles  of  falling  flame.  It  was  going 
to  be  a  hot  day.  The  course  of  the  river  was  dim  still, 
under  the  white  motionless  fine- weather  mist.  There 
was  a  haze  on  the  horizon.  Looking  over  the  roadside 
gate,  from  which  the  boys  so  often  looked  at  the  view 
in  the  clearness  of  the  few  hours  before  rain,  they  noticed 
that  Brown  Willy  was  nothing  but  a  dimness.     The  hills 

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were  all  dim.  They  were  no  particular  colour.  Such 
colour  as  they  had  was  a  darkness,  seemingly  a  mixture  of 
the  blue  of  mist  with  the  green  of  the  fir,  but  all  made 
very  indistinct  by  a  blur  or  bloom  of  heat,  which  took 
all  life  out  of  the  landscape.  The  boys  did  not  stop 
long  to  look  at  the  view.  They  were  conscious  of  their 
packs.     They  were  eager  to  be  on  their  way. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Mac,  "  if  the  Romans  came  this  way 
when  they  invaded  England." 

"  Mr.  Hampden  says  that  this  road  on  the  top  of  the 
hill  is  probably  an  ancient  track.  He  said  it  is  part  of  a 
portway,  a  kind  of  road  built  up  above  the  rest  of  the 
country  in  the  days  when  there  were  a  lot  of  bogs  and 
things."  Robin  was  rather  vague  about  port  ways.  He 
hadn't  been  paying  much  attention  when  Mr.  Hampden 
spoke.  He  had  been  marking  down  a  flying  covey  as 
they  glided  over  a  hedge  into  some  corn.  **  So  I  suppose," 
he  went  on — *'  I  mean,  I  expect  the  Romans  did  come 
this  way.     I  wonder  where  they  fought  the  Britons." 

"  They  fought  at  Brown  Willy,"  said  Mac,  "  'cos  that's 
where  the  Britons  lived." 

"  I  don't  suppose  the  Britons  were  such  asses  as  to 
wait  for  them,"  said  Robin.  "  I  expect  they  came  out, 
and  gave  the  Romans  a  fight  on  the  way." 

**  I'd  like  to  seethe  Romans  going  along  the  road  here. 
I  vote  we  get  Mr.  Hampden  to  tell  us  about  the  Romans. 
I  say,  it  must  be  jolly  to  know  as  much  Latin  as  he  does. 
He  can  read  Latin  just  like  English.  I  wonder  what  the 
Romans  looked  like  when  they  were  fighting.  I  expect 
those  chariots  with  scythes  on  the  wheels  must  have 
jolly   well  given  them   billio  !     Wouldn't   it   be   fine  to 

129  I 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

have  a  bow  and  arrow,  and  to  be  creeping  up  on  the 
Romans,  dressed  up  as  a  wild  boar,  Hke  the  Red  Indians, 
and  then  to  whang  at  JuHus  Caesar.  I  say,  supposing  I 
was  a  British  chief,  and  I  got  Juhus  Caesar  from  behind 
a  tree  as  he  was  riding  by  !" 

"  It'd  be  pretty  mean  to  pot  him  from  behind  a  tree." 


Creeping  up  on  the  Romans,  dressed  up  as  a  wild  boar.'  " 


"  No,  it  wouldn't,  'cos  it'd  be  for  the  country.*' 
"  Yes,"  said  Robin.  "  But  it'd  give  the  country  a 
beastly  bad  name.  It'd  be  much  better  to  stand  up  to 
Caesar  in  fair  fight.  I  wouldn't  like  the  Romans  to  go  about 
saying  that  we  were  afraid  to  stand  up  to  Caesar,  and  had 
to  pot  him  from  behind  a  tree.  And  the  Rector  says 
that   Caesar   was   worth   all   the   ancient   Britons   rolled 

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together.     And,  besides,  he  wore  armour,  so  you  couldn't 
have  potted  him." 

"  Yes,  I  could,  'cos  I'd  have  used  a  crossbow  ;  and 
crossbows  'd  go  through  armour." 


"  '  Goin'  to  do  a  bit  of  campin',  like  ?'  he  asked." 

"  Then  you  couldn't  be  an  ancient  Briton,  'cos  cross- 
bows weren't  invented." 

The  boys  were  hot.  For  a  while  they  walked  on  in 
silence.  Eight  o'clock  found  them  more  than  halfway 
to  Brown  Willy.     The  haze  of  the  early  morning  cleared 

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ofi  gradually  as  the  sun  gathered  strength.  The  valley 
took  shape.  Woods  became  distinct.  It  was  as  though 
soldiers  had  stepped  out  of  the  ranks.  Summer  spread 
a  film  of  gold  in  the  air.  The  leaves  on  the  trees,  even  on 
those  near  at  hand,  had  a  bluish  glimmer.  Corn  was 
white  to  the  harvest  on  both  sides  of  the  road.  Men 
with  arms  of  bronze  were  reaping.  A  farmer  riding  on 
a  grey  cob  halted  at  the  roadside  to  watch  them.  There 
were  sprays  of  yellowed  honeysuckle  in  the  hedge.  Dust 
was  grey  upon  the  bramble-leaves.  The  farmer  stared 
at  the  two  boys  as  they  came  near.  He  thrust  out  a 
stirrup-iron,  and  cleared  his  throat  at  the  cob  for  crop- 
ping with  bared  teeth  at  the  hedge..  "  Wayyer !"  he 
growled.  The  cob  champed  upon  the  iron,  stamping. 
He  shifted  the  bit  in  his  mouth  with  a  chink  of  iron. 
The  saddle  creaked.  The  heat  made  a  smell  of  leather. 
The  cob's  coat  glistened  with  scurfy  particles  of  salt. 
The  farmer's  face  knitted.  He  was  puzzled  by  the  look 
of  the  boys. 

"  You'll  be  hot  under  them  packs,"  he  said. 

The  boys  grinned.  They  were  out  of  their  ordinary 
bounds.  They  did  not  know  this  farmer.  They  wished 
him  good-morning. 

"  Go  in'  to  do  a  bit  of  campin',  like  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes,"  they  said. 

"  Fine  day  for  it,"  he  said. 

After  they  had  passed  on,  he  was  tempted  to  ride 
after  them,  to  offer  to  carry  their  packs  as  far  as  the  next 
milestone.     But   he  had  to   see  to   the  reaping  in   the 
bottom  meadow.     He  couldn't  go  carrying  boys'  packs 
He  kicked  up  the  cob  and  turned  into  the  field. 

132 


Chapter  X 


ROWN  WILLY  now  began  to  heave 
himself  up  from  the  valley.  He 
grew  bigger.  His  rolling  flanks 
took  on  a  majesty.  His  out- 
skirts, which  could  not  be  seen 
from  the  far-away  home  of  the 
boys,  thrust  out  big  mounds.  The 
boys  were  climbing.  The  weight 
of  the  packs  began  to  tell.  They 
seemed  to  bow  the  body  down.  The  road  was  no  longer 
the  highroad.  It  was  a  track  so  little  used  that  it  was 
all  grassed  over,  though  rutted  by  cart-wheels  and 
trodden  by  beasts.  The  boys  climbed  on,  panting. 
Each  was  trying  hard  to  keep  on  till  the  other  should  cry 
for  a  halt.  Neither  wished  to  give  in  before  the  other. 
Both  were  hot,  both  were  very  thirsty.  They  were 
climbing  a  rise  so  steep  that  they  could  see  no  trace  of  the 
head  and  body  of  Brown  Willy.  They  saw  only  a  rounded 
heave  of  hill,  which  rose  up  straight  before  them,  shutting 
out  the  rest  of  the  world.  It  was  like  a  bubble  of  earth, 
it  was  so  round.  The  sky  cut  it  to  a  sharp  curved  edge. 
In  the  intense  light  it  showed  up  so  clear  that  the  boys 
saw  it  all — all  the  life  of  it.  It  had  stretches  of  sun- 
burned turf,  sweet  and  springy,  nibbled  very  close  by 

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the  sheep.  The  fern  grew  high.  There  was  a  wilderness 
of  fern.  The  uncurled  fronds  trembled  against  the  sky 
as  the  wind  passed  over.  The  stalks  of  it  gleamed. 
The  scent  of  it  came  warm  and  close.  Here  and 
there  among  it  a  frond  showed  bright  yellow.  Sheep, 
thrusting  through  it  with  craning  heads,  made  tracks 
of  wavings  in  the  fronds.  One  saw  the  shaking  of 
the  fern  as  the  creature  passed.  One  heard  from  the 
hill  the  "  baa-a  "  of  the  sheep.  They  cried  "  baa-a  " 
up  and  down  in  the  drowse  of  the  summer.  It  was  a 
dim  noise,  like  the  voice  of  the  heat.  It  was  a  pleasant 
noise,  very  much  a  part  of  the  day,  like  the  trembling  of 
the  heat  haze.  The  foxgloves  rose  up  out  of  the  fern. 
Some  of  them  were  four  feet  high.  The  gorse  was  touched 
with  gold  here  and  there.  On  the  withered  thorns  which 
dotted  the  hillside  the  yellow-hammers  droned  their  ditty 
about  a  little  bit  of  bread  and  no  cheese. 

Rabbits  moved  here  and  there.  The  hill  was  littered 
with  earth  thrown  up  by  the  rabbits.  The  rabbits  moved 
about  in  leisurely  humping  lollops.  Now  and  then, 
moved  by  sudden  impulse,  one  of  them  would  tear  at  the 
turf  with  the  forepaws,  as  though  about  to  make  a  burrow. 
Then,  wearying  suddenly,  he  would  go  on  nibbling  at 
the  grass,  with  many  pauses  to  listen.  Little  wind  was 
stirring.  There  was  enough  to  make  tremble  the  fern 
and  the  harebells.  The  kestrel,  curving  out  suddenly 
from  the  other  side  of  the  hill,  felt  his  breast-feathers 
scarcely  ruffled.  He  poised,  looking  down.  He  was  the 
wind-hover.  He  saw  the  minuteness  of  the  life  in  the 
grass.  He  saw  the  lizard  ;  he  knew  the  gleam  of  the 
eye  from  the  gleam  on  a  stalk  of  grass.     He  saw  the  mouse 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

flit  to  covert.  He  marked  the  scattering  of  the  rabbits. 
A  beat  of  his  wings  took  him  forward  in  the  air  for  a 
yard,  so  that  he  might  watch  a  sunning  bhndworm. 
Something  invisible  passed  from  the  keenness  in  the  air 
to  the  torpid  thing  ghstening  on  hot  earth.  There  was 
a  swift  stretching,  and  the  bhndworm  was  gone.  The 
wings  batted  the  air  for  a  few  strokes.  The  hawk 
breasted  forward.  Then,  with  a  slow,  curving,  beautiful 
swoop,  that  was  like  a  sigh  in  its  resignation,  he  passed 
away.  He  took  in  the  side  of  the  hill  as  he  swept  by, 
then  rose  and  poised,  finding  nothing,  and  so  drove 
away  out  of  sight. 

The  boys  gave  it  up  at  last.  After  struggling  against 
the  heat  for  a  long  time,  they  came  to  a  hill  spring 
known  to  the  country  people  as  the  Wenn.  A  cold  jet 
of  water  spurted  from  a  hole  in  a  rock  into  a  rough  stone 
trough  which  had  once  been  the  coffin  of  a  Roman  soldier. 
One  or  two  letters,  carved  in  the  Roman  time,  sixteen 
centuries  ago,  were  still  legible  on  the  side.  An  A  and 
a  CO  appeared.  They  were  fine,  clearly  cut  letters. 
The  only  archaeologist  who  had  seen  the  relic  had  con- 
cluded that  the  CO  stood  for  *'  cohort."  Nobody  knew 
how  it  had  come  there.  The  name  of  the  soldier  and 
every  record  of  his  service  had  long  since  been  weathered 
off.  The  place  was  "  just  the  Wenn."  Why  it  was  called 
the  Wenn  nobody  knew.  The  name  must  have  had  a 
meaning  once  to  somebody,  like  every  other  name.  It 
was  a  spring  of  excellent  water.  Two  or  three  families 
in  the  cottages  near  by  drank  of  it  daily.  The  few 
teams  employed  from  time  to  time  in  carting  gravel 
there  found  it  a  great  refreshment.     It  is  an  abundant 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

spring.  It  has  never  been  known  to  fail  even  in  the 
driest  summer.  It  gushes  out  in  a  cold  and  steady  jet 
at  the  rate  of  about  two  buckets  in  a  minute.  It  brims 
the  coffin,  and  slides  over  the  sides  and  foot  of  it.  It 
splashes  into  a  runnel  by  the  side  of  the  road,  and 
trickles  away  towards  the  sea,  making  many  pebbles 
glitter  on  its  journey.  Thinking  over  the  name  of  Wenn, 
some  conclude  that  it  was  once  a  holy  well,  consecrated, 
perhaps,  by  St.  Weonard,  or  by  some  Gwenn,  or  Gwyneth, 
from  over  the  Mark.  The  coffin  must  have  been  there 
for  many  years. 

It  is  strange  that  so  much  that  was  once  splendid  has 
gone  to  make  the  Wenn  a  pleasant  drinking-place.  The 
Caesars  sent  troops  to  Britain  to  secure  their  hold  on 
Gaul.  One  of  the  troops  (not  even  his  rank  is  known,  but 
the  fact  of  the  coffin  suggests  an  important,  and  perhaps 
Christian,  officer)  died  somewhere,  somehow,  and  was 
buried  somewhere,  some  time,  probably  in  a  time  of 
peace.  Afterwards  somebody  somehow  found  the  coffin, 
and  somebody  some  time  thought  that  it  would  make  a 
"  trow."  One  result  of  a  proud  instant  in  Caesar's 
brain,  when  Rome  was  all-powerful,  is  that  the  teams  of 
the  gravel-carts  get  water  without  going  round  the 
Baiche  to  Stiller's  Pond. 

The  boys  flung  themselves  down  on  a  soft,  sweetly - 
smelling  patch  of  turf  above  the  Wenn.  They  cast  off 
their  packs.  Mac  was  for  drinking  there  and  then  to 
the  limit  of  his  belt.     Robin  stopped  him. 

"  Wait  a  bit,"  he  said.  "  I've  got  a  lot  of  rules  in 
my  pocket,  which  Dr.  Parkin  told  me  to  read  out  loud 
as  soon  as  we  began  to  get  done.     They're  the  rules  the 

136 


"  Robin  read  the  rules  from  a  bit  of  paper." 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

Japanese  soldiers  had.     And  I'd  have  read  them  before, 
only  I  was  cross,  fagging  up  the  last  mile.'* 

He  read  from  a  piece  of  paper,  which  he  took  from  his 
breast-pocket  : 

"  I.  Do  not  drink  during  the  march.  Try  to  wait 
till  the  march  is  over.  If  you  drink  during  the  march,  you 
will  only  make  yourself  more  thirsty.  A  soldier  must 
try  to  endure  thirst. 

"2.  Do  not  drink  when  you  are  hot  and  tired  from 
marching.  Wait  till  you  are  cool  and  rested.  To  drink 
a  great  deal  suddenly,  when  hot  and  tired,  is  sometimes 
fatal. 

"3.  Do  not  drink  greedily.  Begin  by  rinsing  the 
mouth,  and  then  slowly  sip  the  water. 

"  4.  Wlien  halted  by  water,  moisten  your  face  and  hands 
with  a  wetted,  wrung-out  cloth.     This  will  refresh  you. 

"5.  Do  not  talk  when  marching  uphill.  Save  your 
strength  and  breath. 

"  6.  When  halted,  take  care  that  you  do  not  lie  down 
on  damp  ground.  Always  try  to  cover  the  ground  on 
which  you  lie  with  some  such  stuff  as  hay  or  straw. 

"7.  When  you  halt,  take  off  your  boots  and  socks,  and 
examine  your  feet  carefully  for  any  red  patches.  It  is  a 
very  good  plan  to  change  the  right-foot  sock  to  the  left 
foot,  and  vice  versa.  This  is  refreshing  to  the  feet.  Take 
care  that  your  socks  are  not  wrinkled.  A  wrinkle  in 
the  wool  will  quickly  give  you  a  blister. 

**  8.  Do  not  bathe  your  feet  till  marching  is  done  for 
the  day. 

"9.  When  marching,  try  not  to  change  the  pace,  even 
for  a  minute." 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

Mac  was  not  much  impressed  by  the  second  article, 
but  Robin  persuaded  him  to  wait.  He  sacrificed  his 
handkerchief  to  make  a  wetted,  wrung-out  cloth.  They 
mopped  their  faces  with  it,  and  felt  fresher.  They  took 
off  their  coats,  boots,  and  socks.  Lying  down  flat  on 
the  grass,  relieved  of  these  things,  they  watched  the  sky 
from  below  the  tilted  brims  of  their  hats.  After  a  few 
minutes  they  felt  at  peace  with  the  world.  When  they 
"  fell  in  for  the  march,"  they  were  ready  to  go  on  to 
Drowcester. 

They  skirted  farther  round  the  outlying  spur  till  they 
came  in  sight  of  Brown  Willy's  self,  only  half  a  mile  from 
them.  Standing  close  up  to  him  like  that  was  a  new 
experience.  They  had  not  been  so  near  to  him  since  one 
memorable  day  when  they  were  children.  They  were 
used  to  the  distant  sight  of  him.  They  saw  him  nearly 
every  day  of  their  lives  from  one  point  or  another  of  the 
country  near  their  home.  But  to  stand  right  under  him 
was  a  new  and  rather  daunting  thing.  Mac  or  Robin 
alone  would  have  been  a  little  bit  frightened  by  him. 
Being  together,  they  were  not  frightened,  but  they  were 
startled.  Brown  Willy,  like  many  other  hills,  rises  up 
out  of  the  ground  like  a  living  thing.  Folds  of  the  earth 
upon  him  look  like  the  wrinklings  of  muscle.  He  has  a 
bulk  like  a  beast.  There  is  a  menace  in  him.  His 
aspect  is  grim.  He  is  a  very  bare  hill.  His  outliers  are 
beautiful,  with  a  fleece  of  fern  out  of  which  the  foxgloves 
tower.  The  hill  himself  is  bare  turf.  The  grass  is  soft 
underfoot,  very  slippery  when  hot,  and  always  nibbled 
very  short  by  sheep  and  rabbits.  But  the  skin  of  turf 
fails  in  places.     Rabbits  have  burrowed  it  up.     Indeed, 

140 


BROWN  WILLY 

PROFILE  OF  THE  HILL 
SHOWING  SPUR  IN  OUTLINE  BELOW 


§\  Citadel 

Upper  DitcK 

0/     vj^^il   Defenders  etc.     Lower  Ditch 
Stones 


Romans  attacking 


Spur 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

the  hill  is  one  great  rabbit-warren.  Rock  crops  out — a 
very  old  reddish-brown  volcanic  rock.  Wherever  the 
rock  crops  out  it  breaks  into  gravel,  which  the  burrowing 
rabbits  scatter.  Brown  Willy  will  some  day  end  in 
gravel  upon  the  "  drives  "  of  many  thousands  of  cheap 
city  villas.  At  present  he  is  the  noblest  thing  in  the 
landscape.  His  appearance  varies  very  much  according 
to  the  point  of  view.  He  looks  like  a  lion  at  bay,  like 
the  wall  of  a  city,  like  a  bull  with  his  head  down,  charging. 
But  from  right  underneath  his  head,  where  the  boys 
stood,  he  looks  so  big  and  wild  that  you  think  him  human. 
It  is  like  a  wild  giant-head.  When  seen  from  that  point 
in  an  easterly  wind,  the  clouds  passing  over  his  skull 
make  the  watcher  think  that  the  head  is  nodding. 

There  were  no  clouds  on  this  perfect  August  morning. 
The  head  rose  up  grim  and  grand.  He  was  so  vast  that 
the  boys  looked  up  and  then  looked  at  each  other,  as 
though  to  say,  ''  I  say  !"  What  made  him  so  wonderful 
were  the  vast  walls  which  surrounded  him.  Men  had 
been  busy  about  Brown  Willy,  making  him  a  castle. 
They  had  dug  all  round  him,  heaping  up  great  walls. 
There  were  two  ranks  of  ramparts,  one  above  the  other. 
Above  them  was  the  citadel,  within  which  two  Roman 
legions  could  have  camped.  The  wall  of  the  citadel 
followed  the  line  of  the  summit,  but  the  hands  of  men 
had  planed  it  even.  It  made  a  sharp  straight  line  against 
the  sky.  The  boys  marvelled  at  the  sharpness  with 
which  the  wall  of  the  citadel  sloped  from  this  line.  It 
gave  the  skull  of  the  hill  the  fineness  which  a  straight 
line  gives  to  the  human  brow.  The  boys  were  unable  to 
speak  their  feelings.     They  felt  that  they  were  in  the 

M3 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

presence  of  a  great  achievement.  They  pushed  on, 
staring  at  the  walls.  They  had  often  heard  of  "  Brown 
Willy's  Wedding- Rings."  They  now  saw  them.  The 
track  on  which  they  walked  ended  at  a  gravel-pit,  about 
which  trees  and  brambles  made  a  covert.  Beyond  the 
covert  was  a  fence  of  wires  nailed  to  posts.  The  posts 
were  decayed,  the  wire  rusty.  People  and  beasts  had 
made  the  wires  sag.  Tufts  of  wool  shook  below  the 
lower  wires,  marking  the  passage  of  sheep.  When  the 
boys  had  stepped  across  this  fence,  leaving  the  copse 
behind  them,  they  found  themselves  on  a  flat  strip  of 
turf  beside  a  shallow  pan  of  water,  out  of  which  many 
tufts  of  rushes  thrust.  The  pan  was  about  ten  yards  by 
fifteen.    . 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Mac,  "  that  that's  where  they  got 
their  water." 

'*  I  shouldn't  think  so,"  said  Robin,  *'  'cos  it's  such  a 
drag  from  the  top  all  the  way  down  here  for  a  drink." 

Looking  up  at  Brown  Willy,  the  boys  saw  many  tufts 
of  rushes  here  and  there  upon  his  flank.  The  hillside 
had  many  little  springs  upon  it.  Water  flashed  from  one 
of  them  ;  all  trickled. 

"  Plenty  of  water  there,"  said  Mac.  ''  But  I  suppose 
they  wanted  a  lot  of  water.  There  must  have  been  a  lot 
of  them  to  make  those  walls." 

They  stopped  talking,  so  that  they  might  have  breath 
for  the  climb.  They  began  the  ascent.  Presently  they 
halted  on  a  flat  bit,  panting. 

"  Fifty  paces,  and  then  a  stop,"  said  Mac. 

He  was  carrying  the  heavier  load.  Robin  fanned  him- 
self.    From  where  they  stood  they  had  no  view  of  the 

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walls.  A  round  of  hill  was  in  front  of  them.  .  It  was  so 
steep  that  they  would  have  to  dig  their  fingers  into  the 
ground  and  scramble  up,  half  hauling. 

**  Not  much  fun  being  a  Roman  here,"  said  Robin. 

"  No,"  said  Mac.  "  I  wonder  how  they  ever  got  up, 
wearing  armour." 

"  I  expect  the  Britons  kept  plugging  them  all  the  time 
from  slings,"  said  Robin. 

*'  They  wouldn't  be  able  to  see,  though,"  said  Mac. 
"  This  swell  of  the  hill  would  be  a  bit  of  a  shelter." 

"  No,  it  wouldn't,"  said  Robin,  "  'cos  up  on  the  walls 
the  Britons  would  have  a  clear  view,  and  they'd  be  able 
to  simply  plug  them.  And  another  thing  they  did  was 
roll  down  big  rocks  ;  and  the  rocks  would  roll  down 
simply  like  billio,  down  a  hill  like  this." 

"  I  dare  say  the  Romans  found  some  easier  way  up, 
though,"  said  Mac. 

"  When  we've  got  up,  I  vote  we  go  all  round  and  find 
out  whereabouts  the  easiest  place  is,"  said  Robin.  *'  But 
I  expect  the  Britons  would  have  put  a  lot  of  trenches  in 
the  easiest  place.  I  expect  they  dug  pits,  with  spikes  in 
them,  for  people  to  fall  into,  and  then,  when  they  fell  in, 
they  lived  for  quite  a  long  time." 

"  How  d'you  know  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  know,  'cos  it's  in  a  book.  You  can  live  a  long 
time  with  a  spike  inside  you." 

They  turned  to  storm  the  hill.  Presently  they  were 
at  the  foot  of  the  first  great  wall.  It  towered  up  above 
them  for  fifty  feet.  It  was  so  steep  that  the  boys  thought 
it  unscaleable.  It  was  all  turfed  over  now,  but  for  long, 
no  doubt,  its  steepness  had  made  it  hard  for  the  tough, 

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short  hill-grass  to  take  hold.  There  had  been  minute 
fallings  and  denudations  from  the  surface.  Particles  of 
earth,  fallen  from  the  wall,  made  a  perceptible  little  scree 
at  the  foot.  The  surface  was  bound  together  by  the 
roots  of  the  turf,  but  it  had  the  broken  look  of  all  steep 
surfaces.  It  was  wrinkled  and  broken  all  over.  Little 
particles  of  earth  had  gathered  in  ledges  where  a  piece  of 
stone  or  some  other  inequality  had  stopped  them  in 
their  fall.  The  ledges  had  gathered  earth  till  in  time 
they  were  of  the  size  of  a  handful.  The  wall  was  made 
of  a  multitude  of  those  tiny  ledges.  Each  ledge  was 
topped  by  a  bare  patch,  kept  from  the  rain  by  the  ledge 
above.  It  did  not  occur  to  the  boys,  but  many  people, 
seeing  those  walls,  so  impressive  and  so  bare  under  the 
scantness  of  the  grass,  thought  how  savage  they  must 
have  looked  when  they  were  new,  before  the  grass  had 
taken  hold.  The  earth  of  Brown  Willy  is  a  light,  friable 
clay,  very  sparsely  spread  over  the  rock.  In  colour  it  is 
very  like  the  colours  of  an  earthworm.  It  varies  from 
the  earthy  maroon  to  the  dead  flesh.  When  the  walls 
were  all  of  those  colours,  as  they  were  when  the  makers 
left  them,  before  the  grass  grew,  they  must  have  looked 
most  savage.  A  mine  looks  savage.  A  pit  mound, 
grey  with  shale,  dotted  with  coal,  forlorn  with  slithered 
slabs  among  which  the  coltsfoot  starve,  is  a  savage  sight. 
But  the  walls  on  Brown  Willy  were  once  like  pit  mounds 
half  a  mile  long.  They  must  have  looked  grim.  Britain 
was  a  rainy  country  then.  Had  we  been  able  to  stand,  as 
our  forefathers  stood,  on  the  top  of  one  of  those  walls, 
looking  out  over  the  forest  below,  we  should  have 
shuddered.     It  was  all  forest  then,  cheerless  in  the  soak, 

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with  cloud  dragging  in  the  upper  branches.  Rain  drove 
over  it  in  torrents,  soddening  the  leaves,  making  quags 
from  the  drip.  Standing  upon  the  walls,  one  would  have 
seen  only  that  forest  stretching  out  into  the  rain,  and 
far  away  the  lash  of  the  river  rolling  snags  in  spate  to 


"The  savage  aloft  there,  leaning  on  his  spear." 

rot  in  the  marsh  of  the  valley.     One  could  hardly  see 
such  savagery  without  a  horror  of  heart. 

But  perhaps  the  savage  aloft  there,  leaning  on  his  spear, 
got  a  joy  of  it.  There  was  all  that  land  to  conquer. 
Yonder,  above  the  trees,  not  to  be  seen  by  us,  were  the 

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camp  fires  of  the  enemy.  Down  in  the  wood  the  wolves 
were  howHng.  Deer  harboured  in  the  grass-lands.  In 
the  spring,  after  the  ice  had  gone  out  to  the  sea,  the 
salmon  ran,  blocking  the  channel.  At  his  back,  in  the 
ditches  within  the  walls,  the  little  shaggy  cattle  milled 
and  jostled,  thrusting  at  each  other,  lowing  to  be  driven 
to  water.  Within  the  citadel  were  the  folk  of  the  tribe, 
in  their  huts.  The  smell  of  the  fires  came  to  him  in 
whiffs  through  the  smell  of  the  cattle.  He  heard  the 
noises  of  the  camp — the  squealing  of  the  stallions,  cries, 
calls,  voices  now  far,  now  near,  the  beating  of  skins 
newly  dried,  the  pounding  in  the  querns,  the  rattling 
crack  of  stones  against  trees  where  the  boys  practised 
with  the  sling.  It  was  all  significant.  It  was  all  home 
to  him.  And  at  night,  after  they  had  told  stories  in  the 
huts,  among  the  smoke  from  the  open  hearths,  the  camp 
settled  to  rest,  and  fell  silent.  All  slept  there  except  the 
sentries  walking  on  the  walls,  gazing  out  over  the  valley. 
At  times  a  bull,  seeing  a  sentry  above  him,  would 
advance  to  challenge,  bellowing,  scraping  with  his  hoof. 
A  stallion,  in  a  fit  of  nerves,  would  kick  and  whinny,  till 
the  owner,  creeping  out  to  see  if  all  were  well,  had 
talked  to  him.  Presently  out  of  the  east  came  the 
dawn,  touching  the  distant  waters.  Then  the  young 
men,  having  stripped  themselves,  painted  themselves 
with  blue,  and  trotted  out  upon  the  war-path. 


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Chapter  XI 


SAY,"  said  Mac.  "  nobody  could 
have  charged  up  there.  They're 
so  steep  I  doubt  if  we'll  be  able 
to  climb  them." 

"  Perhaps  the  Romans  had 
scaling-ladders,"  said  Robin. 
"  I've  seen  a  picture  of  scaling- 
ladders.  There's  one  in  my 
Ciesar.  The  soldiers  make  great 
broad  ladders,  and  then  they  run  up  with  them." 

"  They  couldn't  have  run  up  here  with  them,"  Mac 
put  in. 

"  Oh  yes.  They  were  trained  to  do  all  kinds  of  things. 
And  then  they  shoved  up  the  ladder  against  wherever  it 
was.  And  then  the  great  thing  was  to  get  on  to  the 
ladder  all  at  once,  'cos  that  made  it  heavy,  and  then  the 
people  on  top  couldn't  shove  it  over  backwards." 

"  I  say,"  said  Mac,  "  it  must  have  been  awful  to  have 
been  on  the  ladder  when  it  was  shoved  over  backwards." 
*'  Specially  if  you  were  up  near  the  top,"  said  Robin 
feelingly  ;  "  specially  if  the  Romans  wore  spiked  helmets 
like  the  Germans."  They  rested  for  a  while,  looking 
along  the  great  wall  for  a  place  where  the  scaling  would 
be  easy. 

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"  There  ought  to  be  a  gate  somewhere,"  said  Mac. 
**  There  must  be  a  gate.  There  must  have  been  a  lot 
of  people  here.  Old  Bill  says  that  you  allow  *  a  man  a 
yard  '  for  defending  a  trench.  There  must  have  been 
thousands  in  here  to  defend  all  this.  I  wonder  where 
they  got  in." 

"  I  expect  there  is  a  gate  somewhere,"  said  Robin. 
"  I  expect  the  gate  would  be  round  on  the  side  where 
they  didn't  expect  an  enemy.  I  wonder  where  their 
enemies  lived." 

**  I  dunno,"  said  Mac. 

"  I  expect  they  lived  over  there,  somewhere  on  those 
hills,"  Robin  said,  pointing  to  the  west.  "  They're  the 
nearest  hills.  And  if  they  didn't,  they  can't  have  had  a 
camp,  for  there's  no  other  hill  near  enough.  But  they 
might  have  come  up  the  river  in  boats  from  somewhere. 
It  would  be  rather  fine  to  come  up  in  boats.  I  say. 
Wouldn't  it  be  fine  to  come  up  at  night,  in  the  dark,  and 
creep  along  close  to  the  banks  ?  And  then  to  land  and 
go  through  the  woods  there,  and  then  to  lie  in  wait, 
hidden  in  the  jungle,  while  you  send  out  a  couple  of  spies 
to  find  out  what  time  the  people  go  to  sleep,  and  where 
the  easiest  place  is.  It  must  be  exciting  to  be  a  spy  like 
that,  creeping  along." 

"  Jolly  difficult,"  said  Mac,  "  'cos  the  men  up  there  on 
the  banks  must  have  had  a  tremendous  view." 

**  Well,"  said  Robin,  "  I  expect  the  spies  did  their 
spying  before  it  was  properly  light  ;  or  I  know  what 
they  would  have  done  :  they'd  have  caught  one  of  the 
people  here.  I  expect  they  could  easily  have  done  that. 
And  then  they'd  have  said  :    *  Now  guide   us   up   the 

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easiest  way,  or  we'll  tarture  you.'  And  then  they'd  have 
learned  all  about  it,  and  crept  up,  and  crept  up.  And 
the  prisoner  would  go  in  front." 

"  If  I  were  the  prisoner,"  said  Mac,  "I'd  call  out  to  the 
people  inside.  I'd  call  out  :  '  Look  out  !  the  enemy  are 
coming.'  " 

"  Oh,  but,  you  see,"  said  Robin,  "  they'd  expect  you'd 
do  that,  so  they'd  probably  gag  you,  so  that  you  couldn't 
speak.  They'd  stuff  something  into  your  mouth  ;  and 
then,  if  you  made  any  noise,  they'd  give  you  simply 
toko." 

They  skirted  along  below  the  walls,  looking  for  an 
easy  place.  All  the  wall  on  the  side  on  which  they  stood 
was  steep  and  high.  It  made  an  unbroken  line.  There 
was  no  gate  through  it.  It  ran  along  the  side  of  the  hill, 
curving  as  the  hill  curved,  with  neither  gate  nor  gap. 
Once,  long  ago,  that  side  had  been  the  danger  side.  It 
gave  the  longest  front  upon  the  gentlest  slope  of  all  the 
hill.  But  after  five  minutes  of  walking  the  boys  came 
upon  a  strange  thing.  All  the  hill  was  strange.  It  was 
all  a  record  in  a  forgotten  language.  But  this  thing  which 
the  boys  found  puzzled  them  more  than  all  the  rest.  In 
a  part  of  the  wall  which  fronted  to  the  north  they  came 
upon  a  path  leading  upwards.  It  slanted  up  the  wall 
at  an  angle  of  about  thirty-five  degrees.  It  seemed  to 
have  been  made  when  the  wall  was  made.  No  path  led 
down  the  hill  from  its  lower  end.  It  was  a  path  up  the 
wall,  nothing  more.  As  it  had  a  flattened  surface, 
exposed  to  the  sun  and  rain,  the  grass  upon  it  was  fresher 
and  stronger  than  the  low,  rather  mossy  grass  which 
clung  to  the  side  of  the  wall.     Like  so  much  of  the  grass 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

on  ancient  trackways,  it  gave  a  different  spring  to  the 
foot.  It  was  of  a  paler  colour  than  the  grass  about  it. 
It  grew  more  thickly.  One  marked  that  it  did  not  give 
out  that  smell  of  life  made  fragrant  which  the  grass  of 
the  hills  gives  to  hill  air.  When  the  boys  first  saw  the 
track,  they  wondered  if  it  could  have  been  made  by  the 
rabbits.  There  were  many  rabbits'  paths  about  that 
hill.  Many  of  them  led  over  the  wall  into  the  ditch. 
The  hill-grass  was  dented  with  them,  as  though  snakes 
had  passed  there.  Two  or  three  hundreds  of  generations 
of  rabbits  had  scuttled  along  those  meuses  since  the 
Romans  made  the  camp  a  solitude.  The  roads  of  the 
shy  ones  of  the  world  were  as  plain  as  the  roads  on  a 
map.  But  this  track  up  the  wall  was  not  a  meuse. 
Though  it  Was  hardly  more  than  eight  inches  across,  it 
was  plainly  the  work  of  men.  It  was  a  tool-made  track, 
patted  flat,  apparently  by  the  spade,  to  a  flat  surface, 
with  sharp,  neat  edges,  not  yet  ruined  by  generations  of 
rain  and  decay.  The  part  of  the  wall  up  which  it  sloped 
was  nearly  as  steep  as  a  railway-cutting. 

"  Here's  a  way  up,"  said  Robin.  They  climbed  up. 
At  the  top  they  found  that  the  wall  was  broader  than  in 
most  parts.  The  boys  wondered  why  it  had  been  made 
so  broad  there.  Then,  plunging  down,  helter-skelter, 
on  the  farther  side,  they  rushed  into  the  ditch,  startling 
many  rabbits  from  their  feed. 

The  ditch  was  so  deep  that  it  gave  the  boys  the  feeling 
that  they  were  in  a  trap.  The  fear  of  a  trap  was  seared 
into  the  mind  of  earth-dwellers  long  before  any  of  them 
became  man.  The  spider,  the  flesh-eating  plant,  the 
constrictor,  and  all  the  countless  hungry,  subtle  creatures 

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which  lurk  and  snare,  put  a  terror  in  the  mind  so  cruelly 
that  we  are  not  yet  free  of  it.  Something  of  this  terror 
made  the  boys  uneasy  as  they  wandered  along  at  the 
bottom  of  the  ditch.  They  were  too  awed  to  speak. 
They  felt  that  they  Were  in  a  great  grim  mouth,  and  that 
the  jaws  would  suddenly  snap-to.  It  was  dark  in  the 
ditch.  The  walls,  rising  up  on  both  sides,  shut  out  the 
light.  A  great  lump  of  hill  still  kept  the  sun  from 
that  part  of  the  ditch  where  the  boys  walked.  It  was 
gloomy  and  desolate  there.  In  many  places  the  ditch 
had  been  cut  through  rock.  The  sides  of  the  ditch  were 
often  rough  rock,  like  the  bones  of  the  hill  scratched 
bare.  The  bottom  of  the  ditch  was  lined  with  stones, 
which  looked  as  though  they  had  been  burnt.  They  were 
like  pumice-stones.  Everywhere  there  were  traces  of 
rabbits.  Rabbits  had  made  little  land-slides.  In  one 
place  they  had  caused  a  big  fall.  A  part  of  the  inner 
wall  had  collapsed,  making  the  way  to  the  upper  ditch 
more  easy.  No  grass  grew  in  the  tumbled  earth  of  the 
fall.  It  had  been  eaten  and  trampled  bare  by  the 
rabbits.  It  was  littered  with  earth  thrown  up  by  the 
burrowing.  Spiders  had  spun  their  webs  across  the 
mouths  of  some  of  the  burrows.  In  others,  by  reaching 
suddenly  down,  one  could  sometimes  touch  a  young 
rabbit  not  yet  wise  in  the  ways  of  the  world.  The  boys 
clambered  up  this  fallen  earth.  They  were  glad  to  get 
up  into  the  sunlight. 

"  I  vote  we  stay  here  a  bit,"  said  Robin,  "  and  poke 
about  in  the  earth.  We  might  find  all  sorts  of  things  in 
the  earth  here." 

He  spoke  confidently,   but  he  was  not  at  his  ease. 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

Neither  he  nor  Mac  hked  the  gloom  of  the  place.  There 
was  something  sinister  in  the'  emptiness  and  darkness  of 
that  gash  in  the  hill :  it  was  so  empty ;  it  was  so  dead. 
Walking  below  those  walls,  past  scars  of  rock,  among  all 
that  ruin  of  a  life  long  forgotten,  was  like  walking  in  a 
mouth  full  of  broken  teeth.  Both  boys  felt  very  strongly 
that  the  hill  had  a  life  of  its  own.  They  felt  that  some- 
thing was  going  to  happen.  They  felt  that  they  were  in 
a  trap.  They  felt  that  just  past  the  curve,  where  the 
ditch  swept  round  to  the  west,  something  inhuman  waited 
—a  madman  or  a  wolf — they  could  not  tell  what.  It  was 
so  silent  there.  There  was  little  wind  anywhere  on  that 
faultless  day.  But  below  the  line  of  the  rampart  not 
even  the  air  stirred.  They  could  stand  on  the  rampart- 
top  in  the  murmur  of  the  wind,  feeling  it,  hearing  it, 
smelling  the  fragrance  of  the  hill,  sunny  grass,  and  honey. 
They  could  see  the  summer  over  all  the  marvellous 
England,  spread  out  like  a  map  below  them.  Sheep 
baaed  as  they  thrust  in  and  out  of  the  fern  on  the  hill. 
Bees  droned  past,  bees  grumbled  over  the  frugal  flowers, 
bees  circled  angry  about  their  heads,  twice,  thrice,  and 
away  into  the  air.  All  the  place  was  alive  as  only  the 
summer  is  alive.  The  air  was  droning  with  life  as  a  sleep- 
ing top  drones.  Yet  if  the  boys  stepped  from  the  rampart- 
top  into  the  ditch,  they  stepped  into  a  world  with  neither 
look  nor  sound  of  life,  a  dead  world,  cold  and  uncanny. 

The  boys  looked  at  each  other  as  they  stood  on  the 
earth  which  had  fallen.  Their  hearts  beat  quick  with 
fear  lest  something  or  someone  should  be  in  the  ditch 
above  them.  The  knowledge  that  they  could  not  see 
what  was  there  made  them  both  cowards.     The  pricking 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

to  make  sure  that  nothing  evil  was  above  drove  them 
with  beating  hearts  up  the  slope  to  the  top  of  the  second 
rampart,  where  they  stood  in  the  summer  again,  relieved 
of  their  fears.  It  was  not  so  terrible,  after  all,  up  there 
in  the  sun,  feeling  the  wind  on  their  cheeks.  They  looked 
down,  seeing,  but  not  observing,  that  the  wall  on  which 
they  stood  was  pitched  so  as  to  command  the  wall  below. 
Any  troops  trying  to  rush  the  lower  wall  would  have 
been  exposed  to  bow  and  sling  shot  from  the  top  of  both 
walls.  The  pitch  of  the  upper  wall  made  the  place  royal. 
The  boys,  standing  there,  felt  that  they  commanded  all 
that  they  saw.  An  eyrie  makes  even  a  sparrow  feel  that 
he  is  an  eagle.  They  exulted  in  the  prospect.  They 
trotted  off  together  along  the  flat  rampart-top.  It  was 
broad  enough  for  them  to  go  abreast.  They  went  to  the 
east  side  of  the  hill,  so  as  to  look  at  the  landscape  that 
the  hills  had  always  hidden  from  them.  It  seemed  to 
stretch  away  into  the  sky.  Standing  up  there,  so  high 
above  the  patchwork  of  the  valley,  gleaming  where  the 
river  ran,  like  a  slug's  track  glistening,  the  boys  felt  like 
birds.  They  were  on  the  rim  of  a  steep  wall.  To  look 
sharply  down  was  like  looking  down  a  precipice.  It 
made  them  catch  their  breath.  They  felt  that  one  step 
would  topple  them  down  and  down,  like  bodies  falling 
from  an  Alp.  They  would  fall  past  the  forests,  past  the 
swathes  of  mist,  past  the  villages  clinging  to  the  crags. 
As  they  fell  they  would  hear  the  sheep  bells  and  the 
church  bells,  they  would  see  a  glint  of  snow,  a  glimpse, 
a  gleam.  And  down  and  down  to  the  grass  at  the  bottom, 
to  the  sudden  miraculous  change,  and  the  looking  up 
with  a  new  sense.     With  the  picture  of  the  falling  came 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

the  delight  of  being  aloft.  They  felt  that  they  had  only 
to  leap  into  the  air,  spreading  their  arms,  to  find  them- 
selves flying.  Surely  flight  is  a  matter  of  faith.  If  one 
leapt  into  the  air,  head  back,  arms  out,  straining  to  the 
blue,  upward,  upward,  the  air  would  sustain.  One 
would  cleave  the  hill- wind,  up,  up,  to  sing  with  the  lark. 
One  would  pause  with  the  hawk  on  air,  above  the  hawk, 
watching  the  brown  back,  the  wind-ruffled  head  bent,  the 
wings  trembling  to  the  fire-flash  in  the  brain.  One  would 
swoop  down,  plunging  like  a  diver,  eyes  shut,  mouth 
smiling,  to  the  alert  arrest  of  the  upward  sweep.  Then 
on,  over  the  hill-tops,  over  the  crags,  over  the  snows. 
Nothing  better  persuades  that  flight  is  possible  than  to 
have  for  a  time  the  prospect  of  what  the  bird  sees. 

After  looking  at  the  landscape,  picking  out  the  spires, 
the  boys  turned.  They  were  standing  at  the  north-east 
corner  of  the  camp.  From  where  they  stood  they  had  a 
view  of  most  of  the  east  and  north  sides  of  the  oblong 
bulk  of  the  hill.  The  east  side  was  the  steepest  side. 
Parts  of  it  were  craggy.  Halfway  down  the  side,  as  the 
boys  could  see,  was  the  camp's  main  gateway,  protected 
cunningly  by  overlapping  folds  of  wall  and  inner  and 
outer  curtains.  But  the  wonder  of  the  camp  was  the 
citadel  behind  the  boys.  Labour  had  gone  to  make  the 
walls  and  ditches,  but  the  citadel  had  been  finished  with 
great  art. 

It  was  as  though  the  tribe  of  forgotten  men  had  set 
themselves  to  polish  that  citadel.  It  sloped  up  from  the 
inner  ditch  to  a  height  sufficient  to  give  it  the  command 
of  both  ditches.  The  slope  had  been  patted  flat,  and 
modelled  by  incredible  labour  to  a  smoothness  of  surface 

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such  as  children  give  to  their  sand-castles.  Even  now, 
when  the  grass  and  moss  had  grown  all  over  the  smoothed 
side,  it  had  a  sharpness  of  pitch  which  gave  the  effect  of 
something  planed  even.  The  size  of  the  camp  impressed  the 
mind  with  a  sense  of  the  abundance  of  the  savagery  which 
made  such  works  possible  and  necessary.  The  appear- 
ance of  the  citadel  showed  that  the  savagery  had  had  its 
lineness.  The  men  who  built  it  had  wrought  faithfully. 
They  had  built  with  such  virtue  that  their  work  was 
fit  for  its  original  purpose  after  the  beatings  of  twenty 
centuries.  If  from  all  their  scattered  graves,  in  barrows 
in  the  valley,  in  the  mud  of  the  river-bed,  in  the  woods, 
under  the  roots,  in  the  dust  of  twenty  centuries,  the  tribe 
could  arise,  with  their  shaggy  herds,  their  horses,  their 
arms,  to  march  to  Brown  Willy  to-day,  they  would  find 
it  a  fine  camp  still.  There  are  only  two  better  in  all 
Britain,  and  one  of  those  is  Roman.  The  King  who 
fortified  Brown  Willy  would  have  been  the  King  in  any 
society. 

The  purity  of  the  hill  air  had  so  freshened  the  boys 
that  they  no  longer  felt  tired.  They  ran  down  the  slope 
into  the  inner  ditch.  Once  more  they  felt  the  sudden 
cutting  away  from  life  which  they  had  felt  in  entering 
the  ditch  below.  The  glory  of  the  world  went  from  them 
as  they  passed  below  the  crown  of  the  rampart.  A  chill 
came  over  them.  The  deep  trench,  half  in  shadow,  struck 
cold.  The  passing  into  gloom  made  the  place  seem 
silent,  though  the  wind  made  a  little  rushing  noise  about 
the  rampart-top.  Again  the  boys  had  that  feeling  of 
awe.  It  was  uncanny  in  that  great  ditch.  Enemies 
might    rush    down    from    the    citadel.     Enemies    might 

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charge  up  from  below.  The  hugeness  of  the  emptiness 
was  frightful.  One  could  see  so  little.  So  much  of  it 
might  hide  an  enemy.  After  a  very  few  steps  in  the  gloom 
of  the  ditch  the  boys  climbed  back  to  their  rampart-top. 

''  I  vote  we  go  on  and  see  the  gates,"  said  Robin. 

"  I  vote  we  get  right  up  to  the  top,"  said  Mac.  Just 
as  he  spoke,  something  soft  but  heavy  came  with  a 
spattering  thud  between  his  shoulders.  Crumbs  of  earth 
scattered  about.  Some  of  them  hit  Robin's  cheek.  The 
boys  spun  round,  much  startled.  "  What  was  that  ?" 
said  Robin. 

''  Chuck  it  !"  cried  Mac,  turning,  and  looking  about. 
No  one  was  there.  The  place  was  utterly  still  but  for 
the  murmur  of  the  wind. 

'*  It  was  a  great  clod,"  said  Robin,  stooping.  "  Who 
could  have  thrown  it  ?"     They  stared  all  round  them. 

"  It  came  from  behind,"  said  Mac.  "  It  seemed  to 
come  from  below."  There  was  no  one  below,  no  one 
behind — nothing  but  the  still  ditches,  in  which  not  even 
a  rabbit  stirred. 

"  Well,  it  must  have  come  from  up  above,"  said  Robin. 
"  Go  on  down.     We'll  see  who  it  is." 

They  scrambled  down  into  the  ditch,  sending  the  gravel 
in  little  avalanches.  As  they  climbed  up  the  slope  of 
the  citadel,  a  figure  in  a  black  mask  rose  up  from  the 
ground  above  them  and  pelted  them,  right  and  left,  one 
each— two  beautiful  shots — with  newly  cut  turfs. 

"  It's  Mr.  Hampden,"  said  Robin,  half  doubting.  An 
instant  of  time,  during  which  he  got  a  turf  in  the  chest, 
convinced  him.  "  Plug  him,  Mac,"  he  cried.  *'  Edge 
round,  Mac,  to  the  left,  and  then  we'll  get  him  between 

158 


"A  figure  in  a  black  mask  rose  up  and  pelted  them.' 


A    Book    of    Discoveries 

two  fires.*'  His  knife  came  out  on  the  instant,  as  he 
jumped  away  from  his  brother.  KneeUng  down,  he 
shced  off  handfuls  of  the  turf  for  shot.  The  enemy  pelted 
him  soundly.  A  shell  of  turf,  bursting  on  his  neck,  filled 
his  shirt  with  earth.  He  ducked  his  head,  scraping  at 
his  neck  with  his  left  hand.  Then,  hastily  filling  the  left 
flap  of  his  coat  with  "  shot,"  he  staggered  up,  shouting, 
firing  as  he  went.  The  enemy  knew  enough  of  war  to 
turn  to  the  more  dangerous  party.  Robin  came  under  a 
very  able  double-handed  fire.  No  one  but  Mr.  Hampden 
could  shy  with  the  left  hand  like  that.  He  was  as  good 
with  his  left  as  with  his  right.  Two  hard  shots,  one  after 
the  other  in  the  same  place,  knocked  Robin's  store  out 
of  his  coat.  A  chiarge  of  the  enemy  sent  him  rolling 
down  the  slope  to  the  bottom.  Mac  went  into  the  ditch 
in  the  same  way  within  twenty  seconds.  Mr.  Hampden 
climbed  back  to  the  rampart-top  and  raised  his  mask. 

"  Victory  !"  he  said. 

**  Not  victory  at  all,"  said  Robin.  "  Victory,  indeed  ! 
Gome  along,  Mac."  A  good  big  turf  cut  him  short.  He 
called  to  Mac  that  they  should  separate,  and  attack  from 
different  points.  He  ran  past  the  angle  of  the  camp  to 
the  northern  side,  and  scrambled  up  under  a  heavy  fire, 
yelling  his  war-cry.  He  got  a  glimpse  of  the  inside  of  the 
citadel  through  the  spatter  of  a  bursting  shell.  He  put 
in  a  heavy  shot  at  close  range,  and  then  a  pusli  in  the 
chest  sent  him  spinning  down  the  slope  again,  rolling 
over  and  over.  He  had  read  somewhere  that,  when 
mountaineers  miss  their  footing  on  the  peaks,  they 
spread  out  their  arms  and  legs  as  widely  as  they  can, 
so  as  to  offer  the  greatest  possible  resistance.      Robin 

l6l  L 


A    Book    of    Discoveries 

remembered  this  as  he  began  to  roll,  and  tried  to  do 

it,  but  it  had  no  effect.      The  slope  was  too  steep  and 

the  sunburnt  turf  too  slippery.     He  went  to  the  bottom. 

As  he  picked  himself  up,  he  heard  Mac's  voice  calling  to 

him  to  come  on  and  simply  plug  him.     Other  sounds  told 

him  that  Mac  was  down.     Now  was  the  time.     He  ran 

a  little  farther  along  the  northern  side,  and  then  began 

to  scale  the  wall  diagonally,  so  that  each  step  took  him 

farther  away  from  the  angle  held  by  the  defender.     Mr. 

Hampden  sent  a  few  shells  after  him,  but  he  was  out  of 

range.     Mac,   thirty  yards   away,   was  getting   "  toko." 

Robin  climbed  to  the  rampart-top  and  looked  for  the 

enemy.     The  enemy  had  left  the  citadel,  to  engage  Mac 

more  closely  on  the  slope  of  the  wall.     His  head  was  just 

visible  above  the  rim  of  the  fort.    A  hand  rose  at  intervals 

to  fling  a  turf  at  Mac,  from  whom  a  squeal  burst  as  each 

shot  went  home  upon  him.     Other  turfs,  flying  in  the 

air,  showed 

"  The  distant  and  random  gun 
That  Mac  was  sullenly  firing." 

Mac  was  under  too  hot  a  fire  to  make  good  practice. 
Robin  stayed  for  a  few  seconds  to  slice  turfs.  When  he 
had  filled  his  store,  he  doubled  across  the  angle  of  the  fort, 
calling  "  Victory  !"  He  opened  on  Mr.  Hampden  from 
just  above,  with  good  results.  Mac,  seeing  this  "  season- 
able relief,"  charged.  He  gained  the  top  of  the  rampart 
just  as  Mr.  Hampden  closed  upon  Robin.     Robin  dodged. 

The  boys  cried,  "  Victory,  victory  !"  They  danced, 
leaping,  pack  and  all. 

''  Now,  pax,  pax  !"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  wearying  of 
the  battle.     "  It's  too  hot  for  this.     Pax,  pax,  pax  !" 

162 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

The  dancing  stopped  ;  the  boys  came  up  to  shake  hands. 
"  When  did  you  come,  sir  ?"  they  asked. 
"  I've  just  come,"  he  said.     "  I  bicycled  over.     I  came 
up  on  the  other  side,  though,  on  the  south.     I  expected 
to  find  you  up  before  me.     But,  as  you  hadn't  come,  I 
looked   for  you   through   my  spies.     And   by-and-by   I 
saw  two  crawling  little  figures  panting  up,  hardly  able 
to  crawl.     So  then  I  thought,  '  Aha  !'     And  I  got  a  nice 
store  of  turfs  ready,  to  teach  you  Romans  not  to  come 
invading  Britain.     I  thought  you'd  come  straight  to  the 
top  on  the  line  you  were  following.     Your  coming  over 
to  this  angle  made  the  attack  late." 
"  We  didn't  see  you,  sir." 

"  You  couldn't,"  said  Mr.  Hampden  ;  "  you  were  down 
below.  You  can't  see  much  of  what's  at  the  top  from 
low  down  on  a  hill  as  steep  as  this.  I  couldn't  always 
see  you.  But  the  wind  was  coming  from  you.  I  some- 
times heard  you.  And  when  I  peeped  at  you,  I  did  it 
carefully.  I  suppose  when  you  peep  at  somebody,  you 
stand  on  the  sky-line  and  wag  your  arms  like  a  sema- 
phore. That's  not  the  way.  You  have  to  lie  down,  and 
shove  your  head  up  so  slowly  that  people  will  think  it's 
only  a  stone.  And  then,  when  you've  looked,  you  glide 
your  head  back  just  as  slowly  as  you  put  it  out.  Now 
put  your  packs  down.  What  do  you  think  of  this  for  a 
home  ?" 

The  boys,  putting  down  their  packs,  very  glad  to  be 
rid  of  them,  stretched  themselves  on  the  turf.  They 
looked  across  the  citadel.  The  first  thought  which  came 
to  them  was,  "  I  can't  see  anything  else.  It's  like  being 
in  a  great  airship." 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

They  were  looking  across  an  expanse  of  turf,  which 
measured  about  five  hundred  yards  by  seven  hundred. 
The  expanse  looked  like  the  crater  of  an  extinct  volcano 
or  the  bed  of  a  drained  lake.  It  lay  some  four  feet  below 
the  top  of  the  rampart.  It  was  like  a  great  shallow  cup 
or  dish,  with  a  raised  rim.  The  surface  was  flat,  or 
flatfish,  where  the  boys  lay  ;  but  it  was  less  flat  elsewhere. 
There  were  irregular  patches,  knops,  tumps,  and  mounds. 
Far  down  on  the  east  side,  near  the  gate,  the  ramparts 
seemed  to  rise  higher.  A  piece  of  wall  thrust  out  like  a 
finger  far  into  the  camp.  Beyond  were  the  ruins  of  what 
had  been  a  thorn  fence,  perhaps,  two  centuries  before. 
Where  the  fence  had  grown  the  earth  was  slightly  raised. 
In  the  line  of  raised  earth  seven  stunted  ancient  thorn- 
trees  grew.  They  had  grown  erect  to  the  level  of  the 
ramparts,  and  had  then  grown  horizontally,  inclining 
eastwards,  under  the  blast  of  the  westerly  gales  which 
blew  Brown  Willy's  head  off.  Beyond  this  there  was  a 
view  of  the  southern  end,  sharp  against  the  sky.  To  the 
west  Were  relics  of  what  had  once  been  a  fir-plantation. 
About  twenty  fir  saplings  seemed  likely  to  live.  They 
grew  in  a  dark  clump  together.  Among  them,  and  in 
the  ground  near  them,  were  a  few  stumps  of  trees,  now 
worn  to  ram-pikes.  The  grass  had  almost  perished  about 
the  clump  of  trees.  It  was  like  very  closely  cropped  dun 
hair.  Three  of  the  ram-pikes  were  fire-blackened.  There 
was  a  big  burnt  patch  on  the  ground  below  them.  They 
had  built  a  big  fire  there  at  the  time  of  the  Queen's 
Diamond  Jubilee.  The  rain  and  the  change  of  the 
seasons  had  not  yet  removed  the  marks  of  it.  Elsewhere 
there  were  lesser  black  marks,   showing  where  parties 

164 


BROV/N  \VILLV 

SHOWING   FORTIFICATIONS  ETC. 

HEIGHT  OF  BROWN  WILLY   17OO  FEET 


^he  Track 


The  Path  by 
which  the,  Boys 
reached  the  ' 
lov/er  Ditch 


N^ 


^S 


w 


The  Cleft  where  the 
Camp  was  pitched 


]X)  j  7\  The  WaterTanks 

:^  0=0-0 

Trees 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

had  picnicked,  but  there  were  not  many  of  these.  The 
roads  to  Brown  Willy  were  bad.  It  was  seven  miles  from 
any  place  bigger  than  a  hamlet.  Those  who  picnicked 
on  Brown  Willy  had  to  make  a  stiff  climb,  carrying  their 
water  with  them. 

"  Isn't  it  a  wonderful  place,  sir  ?"  said  Robin,  now 
thoroughly  rested. 

"  Yes,  it's  a  fine  camp,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 

"  It  must  have  taken  a  long  time  to  make,  sir." 

"  Not  long,"  he  said.  **  They  would  soon  have  made 
these  ditches.  But  I  dare  say  it  was  done  gradually. 
There  may  have  been  only  one  ditch  just  at  first,  and 
that  one  not  a  deep  one.  When  the  tribe  was  small,  I 
expect  that  this  was  only  a  cattle-pen.  But  when  the 
tribe  grew  to  be  a  big  one,  or  when  a  big  tribe  took  this 
place,  it  had  to  be  strengthened." 

"  But  wouldn't  it  have  taken  months  to  dig  out  all 
those  ditches  and  build  those  walls  ?" 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  I  dare  say 
there  were  three  or  four  thousand  people  working  on 
them  all  day  long.  This  earth  is  light  stuff,  very  easily 
worked.  The  rock  beneath  is  easy  to  work,  even  if  your 
pick  is  only  a  red  stag's  horn.  A  man  would  have  been 
able  to  dig,  say,  a  couple  of  tons  of  earth  in  a  day.  Well, 
with  a  couple  of  thousand  men  all  doing  that  with  their 
swords  and  stag's  horn  picks,  and  another  couple  of 
thousand  dragging  away  the  earth  in  their  cloaks  or  in 
baskets,  to  toss  it  on  to  the  walls,  they  would  very  soon 
have  made  a  great  difference.  Men  can  put  up  immense 
earthworks  and  sink  very  long  trenches  in  a  few  days. 
This   was   probably   soon   made,   and  then   slowly   im- 

167 


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proved/*  He  stood  up  and  climbed  to  the  rampart- 
top.  '*  A  wonderful  view  from  here,"  he  said.  "  I 
expect  the  Britons  didn't  see  quite  so  much  as  we  see. 
The  land  was  mostly  forest  then,  and  forest-lands  are 
always  wet  ;  and  with  the  big  rainfall  they  had  a  great 
deal  of  mist  and  fog.  Walking  about  was  difficult.  The 
roads  were  only  tracks.  Off  the  roads  it  was  all  either 
forest,  swamp,  or  a  mixture  of  both.  It  was  only  on 
hills  like  this  that  man  could  stretch  his  legs  or  kill  his 
enemy  in  comfort."  He  kicked  at  the  rampart-top  with 
one  foot.  "  I  expect,  if  you  were  to  dig,"  he  said, 
"  you  would  find  the  ends  of  stakes  all  round  this  wall. 
There  was  probably  a  palisade  of  stakes  round  all  the 
walls — good  stout  stakes  eight  or  nine  feet  high,  with 
sharp  ends  hardened  in  the  fire — something  to  keep 
the  wolves  out." 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  Mac,  "  when  the  Romans  came 
here,  do  you  expect  they  stormed  this  camp  ?" 

"  We  can't  tell  what  they  did,"  he  answered.  "  We 
know  very  little  of  what  the  Romans  did  here.  But  they 
came  to  this  part  of  the  world,  and  conquered  it  some- 
how. We  know  that  they  didn't  find  it  easy.  What 
would  you  have  done  if  you'd  been  a  Roman  General, 
and  had  suddenly  come  on  a  place  like  this  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,  sir.     What  would  you,  sir  ?" 

"  It  doesn't  look  much  like  a  place  to  be  easily  stormed, 
does  it  ?" 

*'  No,  sir." 

'*  Please,  sir,"  said  Robin,  "  it  might  be  easier  to  storm 
in  some  other  part.     Let's  go  right  round  it  and  see." 

When  they  started  to  go  round  the  hill,  the  boys  set 

i68 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

off  to  the  west  ;  but  Mr.  Hampden  called  them  back. 
He  told  them  to  "go  round  right-handed,  the  way  you 
coil  a  rope."  As  they  did  not  understand  what  he 
meant,  he  explained  that  to  coil  a  rope  right-handedly 
is  to  coil  the  rope  from  right  to  left,  and  that  to  go  round 
a  circle  **  right-handedly  "  is  to  go  from  east  to  west, 
through  the  south,  following  the  apparent  daily  motion 
of  the  sun  round  the  earth.  "  Sailors  are  superstitious 
about  it,"  he  said,  "  because  ropes  are  so  made  that  if 
you  coil  them  left-handedly  they  are  very  apt  to  get 
kinky  when  they  are  suddenly  let  go  in  a  squall  or  other 
accident  ;  and  if  they  have  kinks  in  them  when  they 
are  running  out  through  a  sheave,  they  jamb,  and  when 
that  happens  the  ship  may  be  lost.  So  sailors  have 
come  to  look  upon  left-handed  coils  as  unlucky.  Some 
of  them  will  not  even  walk  round  the  deck  left-handedly. 
And  perhaps  the  custom  of  passing  the  wine-bottle  round 
a  table  'the  way  of  the  sun,'  from  right  to  left,  is  a 
result  of  their  superstition."  Stopping  them  for  a  mo- 
ment, he  showed  the  boys  how  unhandily  a  piece  of  cord 
unwound  from  a  left-handed  coil.  The  boys  practised 
coiling.  Then  they  stepped  out  together  to  make  the 
tour  of  the  camp. 

**  I  don't  think  the  Romans  could  have  stormed  this 
side,"  said  Mac,  looking  down  the  craggy  eastern  side 
near  the  gates.  *'  They  couldn't  have  come  up  there, 
could  they,  sir  ?" 

"  I  should  think  they'd  have  found  it  difficult." 

"  The  Britons  would  have  rolled  rocks  on  to  them, 
wouldn't  they,  sir  ?" 

"  That's  what  I  should  have  done  ;  rocks  and  stones, 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

and  balks  of  wood — anything  likely  to  hurt.  When  the 
Romans  were  going  to  storm,  they  formed  what  they 
called  a  *  testudo.*  They  got  very  close  together,  with 
their  shields  up.  They  crouched  down  together  with 
their  shields  overlapping  on  their  backs,  so  that  the 
storming  party  looked  like  a  great  testudo,  or  tortoise, 
under  one  strong  shell  of  shields.  Then  they  advanced 
to  the  storm,  like  a  great  tortoise.  As  long  as  the 
tortoise  held  together,  the  men  under  the  shell  couldn*t 
be  hurt.  So,  when  people  in  a  camp  or  town  were  going 
to  be  stormed  by  a  tortoise,  they  tried  to  break  the 
formation  by  rolling  down  rocks,  or  pouring  flaming  oil, 
or  pitch,  or  molten  metal  upon  it.  If  the  tortoise  broke, 
the  archers  on  the  walls  had  a  fair  mark  for  their  arrows. 
If  the  tortoise  was  not  broken,  the  men  reached  the  walls 
and  placed  the  scaling-ladders.*' 

"  The  tortoise  men  must  have  been  simply  plugged 
while  they  were  putting  up  the  ladders,"  said  Robin. 

"  Very  likely  they  were  plugged,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 
''  But  the  Romans  knew  a  great  deal  about  war,  and  they 
preferred  that  it  should  be  the  other  side  who  got  plugged, 
as  you  call  it.  When  a  party  is  about  to  storm  a  position 
nowadays,  the  artillery  is  brought  up,  and  all  the  guns 
blaze  away  at  the  position  over  the  heads  of  the  storming 
party.  That  is  called  '  silencing  the  enemy's  fire,'  '  pre- 
paring the  assault,'  or  '  covering  the  attack.'  The  enemy 
in  the  position  are  mauled  so  frightfully  by  the  fire  that 
they  cannot  stand  to  shoot  at  the  storming  party.  The 
heavy  gun-fire  does  not  stop  till  the  troops  of  the  storming 
party  have  begun  to  enter  the  position.  Well,  when  the 
Romans  were  going  to  storm,  they  opened  a  *  fire  '  on 

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"  '  They  brought  up  the  catapults  to  cover  the  attack.'  " 


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the  defender.  They  had  no  guns,  but  they  had  cata- 
pults— not  your  sort  of  catapults,  but  great  strong 
frames  of  wood,  with  springs  of  twisted  hair,  which  would 
fling  a  heavy  stone  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile  or  more.  They 
brought  up  the  catapults  to  cover  the  attack.  They 
Weren't  so  unlike  modern  soldiers  as  you  suppose.  They 
brought  up  catapults  where  a  modern  General  brings  up 
his  guns.  They  had  them  mounted  on  wheels.  I  dare 
say  that  catapults  came  into  action  at  a  gallop,  just  like 
guns.  And  they  had  ammunition- waggons  with  them, 
full  of  stones,  spare  levers  for  twisting  the  cords,  and 
spare  cords,  in  case  any  broke.  And  before  a  tortoise  set 
out,  the  catapults  opened  on  the  walls  to  clear  off  the 
defenders.  A  sharp  bombardment  from  catapults  must 
have  been  a  very  terrible  thing — not  as  bad  as  guns,  of 
course." 

"  Were  you  ever  in  a  battle,  sir  ?" 

"  Yes.     In  more  than  one." 

"In  the  war,  sir  ?" 

"  No,  not  in  our  war.  I  was  with  an  ambulance  corps 
in  Cuba  during  the  war  between  Spain  and  America." 

"  Wliat's  it  like,  sir  ?" 

"  It  is  not  pleasant.  I  was  not  under  lire  from  heavy 
guns — I  don't  know  what  that's  like — but  lire  from 
field-guns  and  rifles  is  quite  bad  enough.  At  first  you 
keep  ducking,  to  avoid  the  bullets.  After  a  time  you 
get  out  of  the  way  of  ducking.  But  a  battle  puts  you 
into  a  strange  frame  of  mind.  You  get  very  jumpy  and 
panicky,  inclined  to  cry  or  to  go  mad.  The  ambulance 
men  are  worse  off  in  a  way  than  the  soldiers  :  they  haven't 
got  the  excitement  of  firing.     But  in  a  way  they  are  better 

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off,   for  they  are  moving  about,  and  looking  after  the 
wounded.     Their  minds  are  more  occupied." 

"  Soldiers  don't  fire  at  ambulance  people,  do  they,  sir  ?" 
"  Not  at  them — no,  not  knowingly.  But  in  a  battle, 
when  the  firing  has  begun,  the  men  get  excited.  They 
fire  at  anybody  and  at  nothing.  And  a  modern  battle 
begins  at  a  range  so  great  that  the  men  in  the  firing-line 
cannot  tell  an  ambulance  man  from  an  enemy.  The 
bullets  used  to  come  all  round  me." 

The  boys  Were  sensitive  (as  boys  are)  to  the  speaker's 
mood.  They  saw  that  Mr.  Hampden  did  not  want  to 
talk  of  his  own  experiences.  They  changed  the  con- 
versation. 


<^^ 


174 


Chapter  XII 


■^F  we  were  defending  this  camp, 
sir — ^supposing  we  were  Britons, 
and  the  Romans  were  coming 
for  us — ^how  far  away  would  the 
battle  begin  ?" 

"If  we  were  defending  the 
camp  ?  I  suppose  within  about 
a  quarter  of  a  mile.  The  cata- 
pults would  begin  at  that  range, 
I  suppose.  But  that  is  talking  of  something  which  may 
never  have  happened.  The  best  defence  of  a  place  is 
made  far  from  it.  If  you  were  in  your  dormitory  at 
school,  and  you  heard  that  some  other  dormitory  was 
mustering  to  raid  you  with  everybody  it  could  raise,  you 
wouldn't  stay  in  bed  till  you  were  attacked,  would 
you  r 

"  No,  sir.  We  should  jolly  well  lay  an  ambush, 
shouldn't  we,  Robin  ?  Or  we'd  go  up  to  their  dormi, 
and  catch  them  before  they  Were  ready." 

"  And  smite  them  simply  like  billio,"  said  Robin, 
leaping  with  the  joy  of  the  thought.  He  flogged  with  his 
hat  on  the  ground,  to  show  the  appearance  of  "  Billio," 
in  his  habit  as  he  lived. 

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"  Bolly-fighting's  simply  sport,"  said  Mac  ;  "  but  you 
always  get  caught.  Your  feet  make  such  a  noise  on  the 
floor." 

"  And  then,  I  suppose,  you  get  lines  ?" 

"  It  depends  on  who  catches  us.  If  it's  old  Skipper 
Gooseneck,  he  generally  whacks  us  back  to  bed  with  a 
T-square.  I  say,  Robin,  doesn't  a  T-square  hurt  when 
it  gets  you  with  the  edge  ?'* 

"  Do  you  often  need  the  T-square  ?" 

"  No,  sir  ;  we  don't  often  go  bolly-fighting.  The  bolly- 
slips  are  so  thin  they  split  if  we  go  bolly-fighting.  And 
old  Skipper  Gooseneck  makes  the  maids  report  all  split 
bollies  direct  to  him,  and  whoever  gets  a  split  bolly  has 
his  pocket-money  stopped  to  pay  for  the  cost  of  darning. 
But  on  the  last  night  of  term  !" 

"  Simply  like  billio,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  That  was 
what  the  Britons  did  when  the  Romans  came  invading. 
They  didn't  want  to  be  penned  up  in  a  fort.  They 
attacked  as  soon  as  they  could,  and  kept  on  attacking 
wherever  they  saw  a  chance." 

"  But  supposing,"  said  Mac,  harking  back  to  his 
inquiry — "  supposing  we  were  defending  this  camp  ? 
Supposing  we  were  besieged,  and  the  Romans  were 
coming  for  us  ?" 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  "  I  should  think  that  if 
the  Romans  ever  came  to  attack  this  place,  they  would 
not  have  attacked  it  from  this  side.  You  go  on  all 
round  the  hill,  and  note  the  look  of  the  land,  and  see 
which  part  you  would  choose  for  the  attack,  if  you  were 
a  General  attacking.  I  don't  think  you  would  find  this 
the  easiest."     As  he  saw  that  what  Mac  wanted  was  a 

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description  of  the  battle,  he  continued.  "  The  Romans 
prepared  for  the  attack,"  he  said,  "  or  I  suppose  they 
did,  by  opening  on  the  walls  with  their  field  catapults. 
At  the  same  time  they  sent  out  their  slingers,  archers, 
and  javelin-throwers,  with  orders  to  shoot  at  every 
defender  who  showed  himself  on  the  walls.  They  did 
this  usually  in  two  or  three  places,  so  that  the  defenders 
should  not  know  where  to  expect  the  main  attack. 
Meanwhile  they  took  care  to  get  their  men  ready  some- 
where under  cover  out  of  sight,  in  one  of  the  woods,  per- 
haps, or  behind  some  roll  in  the  ground.  When  the 
General  thought  that  the  walls  had  been  pretty  well 
cleared  of  defenders,  he- ordered  the  storming-party  to 
advance.  While  it  was  advancing,  the  catapults,  slingers, 
and  archers  increased  their  efforts.  They  kept  sending 
as  many  arrows,  darts,  and  stones  into  the  defenders  as 
they  could.  Presently,  when  the  time  came,  the  de- 
fenders began  to  roll  down  rocks  upon  the  storming  party 
— rocks  and  great  round  boles  of  wood.  They  flung 
stones,  too,  either  by  hand  or  from  slings  and  cleft  sticks. 
You  know  the  dodge  of  the  cleft  stick  ?  You  split  a 
stick  for  some  three  or  four  inches  from  its  end,  and  then 
whip  the  stick  tightly,  so  that  it  will  not  split  farther. 
Then  you  put  a  flat  pebble  into  the  cleft  and  give  the 
stick  a  jerk.  It  isn't  easy  to  describe  the  kind  of  jerk — 
it's  a  knack  ;  but  it  is  easily  learnt.  When  you  have 
learned  it,  you  will  be  surprised  to  see  how  far  you  can 
fling  a  pebble  by  it.  When  this  piece  of  wall  was  stormed 
— if  it  were  stormed — this  spot  where  we  stand  must  have 
been  exciting." 

"  But,  please,  sir,"  said  Mac,  *'  the  stones  here  aren't 

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any  good  for  fighting.  They're  just  gravel.  Where  did 
they  get  their  stones  ?" 

*'  Oh,  they  collected  them  in  times  of  peace.  They 
laid  in  big  supplies  of  them.  And  they  collected  nice  big 
nubbly  rocks,  too.  They  put  them  on  the  edge  of  the 
wall,  ready  to  roll  over.  When  the  enemy  came  within 
range,  a  man  walked  along  the  wall,  carrying  a  lever. 
With  the  lever  he  toppled  the  rocks  off  the  wall,  so  that 
they  went  rolling  downhill  into  the  enemy.  The  de- 
fenders weren't  so  badly  off.  People  besieged  in  towns 
used  to  hang  a  kind  of  breastwork  of  skins  or  blankets 
along  the  wall-top,  to  catch  the  sling-shot  and  the 
arrows.  I  don't  know  whether  the  Britons  did  the 
same." 

"  I  suppose  the  Romans  really  did  storm  this  place  in 
the  end,  sir,"  said  Robin. 

"  They  may  have  stormed  it.  But  the  evidence  shows 
that  the  ancient  Britons  liked  to  fight  outside  their 
camps.  This  camp  was  the  stronghold  of  a  tribe,  or 
part  of  a  tribe.  The  Romans  probably  met  the  tribe 
in  battle  in  the  open  somewhere,  perhaps  many  miles 
from  here.  Ancient  battles  were  generally  well  con- 
tested for  a  long  time.  The  two  sides  fought  hard  at 
close  quarters  with  very  little  loss,  till  one  side  began  to 
give.  With  shields,  helmets,  and  breastplates,  men  were 
well  protected.  When  a  side  began  to  give,  the  slaughter 
was  awful.  The  men  wore  no  defensive  armour  on  their 
backs.  If  they  turned  their  backs,  they  were  at  the 
mercy  of  their  enemies,  who  Cut  them  down  in  heaps. 
When  you  are  older  you  may  read  the  accounts  of  some 
of  the  ancient  battles.     You  will  see  how  the  winners 

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A    Book    of  Discoveries 

lost,  perhaps,  fifty  or  a  hundred  men,  while  the  losers 
lost  many  thousands.  The  Roman  armies  were  severely 
drilled  and  disciplined.  They  were  also  well  armed. 
Their  chief  weapon  was  a  short,  strong  thrust ing-s word. 
They  didn't  cut  ;  they  thrust.  A  man  may  be  cut  in 
fifty  places  without  being  severely  wounded  ;  but  one 
good  jab,  two  inches  deep,  in  almost  any  part  of  the  body, 
puts  him  out  of  action.  The  Romans  were  seldom 
defeated  here.  They  met  the  tribes,  wore  them  out, 
broke  them,  and  then  cut  them  to  pieces.  When  a 
tribe  was  beaten  in  fight,  the  forts  could  not  be  held. 
There  were  no  men  left  to  hold  them.  The  Romans 
marched  in,  and  sold  the  women  and  children  into 
slavery.     Slave-dealers  always  followed  the  army." 

"  But  please,  sir,"  said  Mac,  "  if  the  camps  were 
never  besieged,  why  did  the  Britons  make  them  so 
strong." 

"  To  guard  against  surprises,"  said  Mr.  Hampden, 
"  and  to  keep  out  the  wolves.  The  Britons  were  always 
at  war  among  themselves.  There  were  many  wolves. 
This  place  was  made  very  strong  (one  of  the  strongest 
in  England)  because  it  is  in  what  must  have  been  a 
very  warlike  part.  The  river  there  is  a  natural  boundary  ; 
archaeologists  think  that  it  divided  two  British  kingdoms 
from  each  other.  This  place  commands  one  of  the  few 
fords  across  the  river.  If  you  take  my  glasses,  you  will 
see  the  village  which  grew  up  round  the  ford.  Look  just 
beyond  the  trees  there.  The  river  is  bridged  now  in 
many  places.  The  places  where  the  bridges  cross  are 
now  the  important  places.  Towns  have  grown  up  round 
them.     Before  the  bridges  were  built  the  fords  were  the 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

important  places.  A  strong  place  like  this  kept  that 
ford.  The  road  which  you  see  down  below  is  supposed 
to  be  an  ancient  British  trackway  leading  to  the  ford. 
This  camp  here  kept  guard  over  the  ford  and  the  road. 
It  is  the  gatekeeper's  lodge.  The  ford  is  the  gate,  and 
the  track  down  below  is  the  drive  which  leads  to  the  house 
or  kingdom." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mac  ;  "  but  please,  sir,  couldn't  people 
cross  the  ford  in  the  night  and  steal  round  by  some  other 
way  ?  They  could  creep  round  at  the  back  of  the  camp, 
and  get  into  the  kingdom  that  way." 

"  Yes,"  said  Robin.  "  And  this  is  a  long  way  from 
the  ford.  The  people  could  easily  cross  before  the  men 
here  heard  of  them." 

Mr.  Hampden  smiled.  "  Try  to  look  at  it  from  all 
its  bearings,"  he  said.  "  Suppose  you  were  an  ancient 
Briton  living  here,  do  you  know  what  sort  of  eyes  you 
would  have  ?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Blue  eyes,"  said  Robin,  thinking  of  the  words,  "  Non 
Angli,  sed  Angeli."  Like  many  other  boys,  he  believed 
that  blue  eyes  were  a  sign  of  British  and  Saxon  blood, 
and  that  a  person  with  blue  eyes  was  of  a  more  pure 
stock  than  another." 

"  I  mean  their  power,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  ''  You 
would  have  eyes  like  a  Red  Indian.  You  would  be  able 
to  tell  whether  a  speck  seven  miles  away  were  a  man  or 
an  animal.  You  would  have  ears  so  sharp  that  you 
w^ould  be  able  to  tell  the  meaning  of  every  noise  you  heard. 
You  would  hear  human  speech  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away, 
in  ordinary  weather." 

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"  Please,  sir,  how  far  away  can  you  hear  people 
speaking  ?" 

*'  Hear  speech  ?  On  a  still,  clear  day,  before  rain, 
you  can  hear  it — what  shall  I  say  ?  A  hundred  and 
eighty  yards  at  the  most.  On  an  ordinary  day  I  suppose 
you  can  hear  a  voice  a  hundred  yards  away,  or  a  hundred 
and  twenty  yards.  But  any  wind  will  make  your 
hearing  uncertain.  It  will  set  the  trees  swishing.  Though, 
if  the  wind  be  blowing  from  the  speaker  to  you,  it  may 
give  you  an  extra  ten  yards  or  so.  You  can  hear  voices 
across  a  couple  of  miles  of  water  on  a  still  day.  And  if 
you  and  Mac  were  to  lie  down  here,  and  talk  as  you  lie 
on  the  ground,  I  should  probably  hear  your  voices  a 
hundred  and  fifty  yards  off,  if  I  stooped  down  a  little." 
He  paused  to  see  if  the  boys  wished  to  try  the  experi- 
ment. "  I've  not  got  a  measuring  tape,"  he  said,  '*  but 
we  could  pace  it." 

*'  Won't  you  go  on  about  the  Britons,  sir  ?"  said  Robin. 
He  wanted  to  know  about  the  Red  Indians  who  had 
lived  in  his  own  country.     "  Had  they  horses,  sir  ?" 

"  Yes,  very  good  horses,  for  their  chariots  and  for 
riding.  They  coloured  their  saddles  very  beautifully." 
He  took  the  glasses  from  Mac,  and  stared  through  them 
at  the  ford.  "  If  they  left  a  few  sentries,"  he  continued, 
"  to  watch  the  ford  down  there  at  night,  no  enemies 
could  get  across  '  to  creep  round  at  the  back  of  the 
camp,'  as  you  put  it.  If  the  enemy  tried,  the  sentries 
would  signal  to  the  camp." 

**  What  were  their  signals,  sir  ?" 

"  I  expect  they  had  as  many  signals  as  the  Red  Indians 
used  to  have — voice  signals,  fire  signals,  smoke  signals, 

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motion  signals  :  signals  to  be  heard  and  signals  to  be 
seen.  I  dare  say  you  have  heard  how  some  of  the  native 
tribes  in  Africa  can  send  swift  messages  across  vast  tracts 
of  country.  It  is  thought  that  they  have  some  method 
of  making  the  voice  carry — some  system  of  pitching  the 
voice,  so  that  what  is  cried  aloud  may  travel  far.  If  the 
ancient  Britons  had  that  secret,  the  sentries  could  have 
shouted  the  news  of  the  enemy  from  post  to  post  till 
it  reached  the  camp." 

"  But  supposing  the  enemy  sent  a  few  men  up  the  river, 
and  told  them  to  swim  across,  and  then  creep  down  and 
kill  the  sentries." 

"  The  sentries  would  be  on  the  lookout  for  that. 
But  if  they  were  surprised  and  killed,  it  would  soon  be 
discovered.  Sentries  are  always  visited  at  intervals  by 
patrols  '  making  the  rounds.*  The  alarm  would  be 
raised  almost  at  once." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Robin,  "  but  supposing  the  enemy's 
army  didn't  cross  at  the  ford,  but  crossed  lower  down 
or  higher  up,  and  got  into  the  kingdom  either  to  the  north 
or  south  ?" 

"  That's  a  shrewd  question,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  He 
took  Robin  by  the  shoulder.  "  Who  taught  you  to 
make  shrewd  questions,  eh  ?"  he  asked.  "  But  how 
would  the  army  cross  if  it  didn't  cross  at  the  ford  ? 
England  was  a  very  wet  country  in  those  days.  That 
river  was  swifter  and  broader  then  than  it  is  now. 
Where  could  the  army  cross  if  it  didn't  cross  at  the 
ford  ?  There's  no  other  ford  below  us.  And  the  nearest 
one  higher  up  is  twenty  miles  away.  I've  been  all  down 
that  river  in  a  coracle,  so  I  know.     Well  ?" 

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"  Please,  sir,  they  could  have  crossed  in  boats." 

"  Just  look  at  this  camp  here." 

The  boys  looked,  wondering.  They  saw  nothing  but 
the  great  walls,  covered  with  the  short  sweet  grass. 
They  looked  again  at  Mr.  Hampden  to  see  if  he  were 
joking.     Mr.  Hampden  smiled  at  their  blank  faces. 

"  Don't  you  see,"  he  said,  *'  that  this  place  held  five 
or  six  thousand  men.  Five  or  six  thousand  men,  each 
probably  stronger  and  better  able  to  fend  for  himself 
than  I  am.  An  enemy  coming  to  fight  in  this  kingdom 
would  have  had  to  send,  say,  eight  or  nine  thousand  men, 
to  have  much  chance  of  success." 

"No,  sir,"  said  Mac  ;  "  five  or  six  thousand.  The 
people  here  mayn't  have  been  so  wonderful." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  "  but  a  General 
always  tries  to  have  a  stronger  army  than  his  opponent. 
I  don't  think  that  an  invading  army  would  have  tried  to 
pass  this  fort  with  less  than  eight  thousand  men.  How 
would  eight  thousand  men  cross  the  river  ?" 

"  By  boats,  sir,  or  rafts." 

*'  They  would  have  needed  something  like  seven  or 
eight  hundred  boats.  How  Would  they  make  all  those 
boats  unobserved  ?  They  would  have  been  seen  fifty 
times  over." 

"  I  know  what  I'd  have  done,"  said  Robin.  "  I'd 
have  sent  out  a  fiery  cross  or  something,  telling  everybody 
to  be  ready  by  a  night  when  there 'd  be  a  full  moon. 
I'd  get  the  Druids  to  calculate  when  there'd  be  a  full 
moon.  I'd  tell  everybody  to  come  with  three  or  four 
days'  food.  And  before  they  came  I'd  get  a  lot  of  trees 
cut  down,  a  good  long  way  from  the  river.     I'd  tie  them 

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together,  so  as  to  make  a  long  bridge.  Then,  when 
everybody  was  ready,  I'd  send  some  cavalry  across  the 
river,  'cos  horses  can  swim  much  better  than  men.  Then 
they  would  drag  the  bridge  across  by  ropes,  and  tie  it 
to  the  other  bank,  so  that  there  would  be  a  bridge,  and 
the  men  could  cross  by  it.     And  while " 

"  I  know  what  I'd  do,  too,"  said  Mac  quickly.  "  I'd 
drive  a  lot  of  bulls  over  the  ford,  with  tin  cans  on  their 
tails." 

"  Would  you  ?"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mac.  "  That  would  make  the  sentries 
think  the  attack  would  be  there." 

"  I  wouldn't  do  that,"  said  Robin.  *'  I'd  send  men 
on,  to  creep  right  round  the  fort,  and  come  up  suddenly 
on  the  other  side — that  side."  (He  pointed  to  the 
western  side.)  "  Or  Fd  march  straight  to  the  capital, 
wherever  it  was,  and  take  all  the  money  before  they  knew 
what  I  was  doing." 

"  You  must  remember  that  the  roads  were  few  and 
bad.  The  woods  were  thick,  and  the  ground  very  boggy. 
You  would  have  to  march  through  pathless  woods  across 
marshy  ground." 

"  I  would  train  my  men  to  do  that,"  said  Robin. 

"  You  must  remember  that  they  would  straggle.  They 
would  be  scattered  all  over  the  wood.  You  can't  keep 
a  marching  army  in  order  in  a  wood."  Robin's  men  were 
not  like  ordinary  men. 

"  And  when  you  were  ploughing  along  in  the  forest," 
Mr.  Hampden  continued,  "  the  men  from  the  fort  here 
would  come  down  to  take  you  in  flank,  and  others  would 
sneak  round  to  cut  away  your  bridge.     And,  of  course,  if 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

I  were  the  gate-keeper  here,  I  should  send  word  about 
you  to  my  King,  farther  to  the  west.  My  King  had  his 
capital  somewhere  about  Kinsop,  shall  we  say  ? — a  town 
in  a  clearing  in  the  wood — a  good  big  town  of  twenty 
thousand  inhabitants.  I  should  have  sent  a  very  quick 
runner.  He  would  have  been  there  in  an  hour.  The 
King  would  have  turned  out  with  four  or  five  thousand 
men,  to  take  you  in  the  front.  You'd  have  been  squelched, 
my  friend  Robin — taken  in  flank  and  front,  your  retreat 
cut  off,  and  nothing  but  surrender  possible." 

"  Oh,"  said  Robin,  "  by  the  time  your  King  got  to  you, 
I'd  have  beaten  off  your  flank  attack,  and  taken  this 
fort.  Then  I'd  have  gone  down  and  taken  the  King,  too." 
They  had  wandered  on,  little  by  little,  to  one  of  the 
mounds  which  defended  the  strange,  overlapping  walls 
of  the  main  entrance. 

"  No  getting  in  here  without  leave,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 
He  counted  the  mounds  which  the  traveller  had  to  pass 
between  the  outer  entrance  and  the  citadel.  An  enemy 
trying  to  enter  by  the  gate  would  have  been  exposed  to 
flank  attack  from  thirteen  places  before  he  could  reach 
the  citadel.  It  was  easier  to  storm  than  to  try  to  enter 
by  the  gate.  The  boys  saw  the  cleverness  of  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  gates.  The  mounds  flanking  the  entrance 
were  very  broad  at  the  top,  so  that  many  men  could  stand 
upon  them.  They  were  also  very  steep,  and  the  walls 
were  faced  with  unmortared  stones  of  great  size.  The 
party  clambered  down  the  gentler  slope  into  the  ditch, 
so  that  they  might  examine  the  entry  from  below.  As 
they  went  out  of  the  gates  into  the  side  of  the  hill,  they 
turned  to  look  back.     Looking  back,  they  felt  that  strange 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

awe  which  all  big  things  give.  There  is  a  mystery  in  all 
great  work.  The  mystery  in  these  huge  ramparts  made 
them  all  a  little  afraid.  Who  could  have  built  those 
walls  ?  WTiy  were  they  built  ?  If  wonderful  people 
built  the  gates  to  keep  themselves  in,  who  were  the  more 
wonderful  people  whom  the  gates  were  to  keep  out  ? 
Looking  up  from  just  below,  the  boys  saw  a  succession 
of  menacing,  dreadful  walls,  too  steep  to  scale,  too  vast 
to  be  the  work  of  man.  They  looked  like  a  freak  of 
Nature.  The  grass  had  grown  upon  them,  making  their 
savagery  gentle.  They  were  surely  the  work  of  Nature. 
No  ;  they  were  the  work  of  men.  There  Were  the  sharply- 
cut  great  gates.  The  gates  were  open.  Men  were  free 
to  go  and  come  as  they  would.  Who  had  gone  in  by 
these  gates  ?  Who  was  the  last  to  go  out  by  them  ? 
The  stones  of  one  of  the  walls  had  been  carted  away  to 
build  somebody's  pigsties.  There  had  been  a  fall  of 
earth  where  the  stones  had  gone.  The  rabbits  had  got 
in,  making  havoc.  In  another  part  the  walls  still  stood. 
The  boys  looked  at  them.  They  were  good  walls.  They 
were  better  unmortared  walls  than  any  Englishman  could 
make  to-day.  The  thorn  hedge  and  barbed- wire  fencing 
have  killed  that  art  among  us.  It  is  no  mean  art.  It 
demands  a  great  deal  of  thought,  care,  taste,  and  physical 
strength — "  virtue,"  in  fact — ^true  manliness,  to  build  a 
wall  of  unmortared  stone.  And  here  was  one  which  had 
lasted  for  a  couple  of  thousand  years.  Who  had  built 
it  ?  Men  with  a  great  deal  of  the  manly  and  the  kingly 
in  them.  Those  lucky  ones  who  have  been  taught  in 
youth  to  do  useful  things  with  their  hands  have  this  great 
joy   for   ever  :    that   they   can   delight   in   honest   work 

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wherever  they  find  it.  They  have  also  this  great  sorrow  : 
that  honest  work,  if  it  be  not  getting  rare  among  us,  is 
becoming  less  usual.  Mr.  Hampden  was  deeply  pleased 
by  the  beauty  of  the  stone-laying.  He  had  once  worked 
for  a  few  hours  with  a  Cornish  wall-builder.  He  knew 
what  special  talent  wall-building  needed.  He  was  never 
again  going  to  think  that  a  picture-painter,  or  sculptor, 
or  decorator,  was  the  only  worker  deserving  to  be  called 
an  artist.  He  ranked  a  power  which  taxed  the  entire 
man  (like  this  power  to  lay  great  stones  trimly,  in  spite 
of  the  difficulties)  far  above  the  something  done  at  ease 
in  a  stuffy  studio. 


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Chapter  XIII 


T  the  entrance  to  the  camp  the  gate 

opened    out    hke  a  pair  of    jaws. 

A  vast  stefep   mound    jutted    from 

the    outer    wall    at     an    angle     of 

about    forty-five   degrees.      It  was 

like    the    lower    jaw   of    the    hill, 

opened    to     snap.      It    seemed    to 

invite  people  to  enter.     It  seemed 

to  be  spread  so  that  a  great  many 

of  the  enemy  might  come  in  to  be  bitten  off.     It  was  the 

"  curtain  "  of  the  gate,  from  which  the  defenders  pelted 

an  attacking  force  from  front,  rear,  and  both  flanks. 

"  Were  there  gates  as  well  as  these  mounds  ?"  Robin 
asked.     "  I  mean  proper  gates." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Hampden  ;  ''  there  were  great  gates 
or  doors  of  some  kind.  The  Romans  had  great  strong 
wooden  gates,  studded  with  nails  and  spikes.  I  expect 
the  people  here  had  some  gate  of  the  kind  across  the 
opening  there.  It  could  never  have  been  forced.  People 
could  never  have  stood  to  work  a  battering-ram  against 
it.  This  opening  would  have  been  a  death-trap  to  them." 
"  Let's  see  where  the  road  goes  to,"  said  Mac. 
Outside  the  walls  a  narrow  track  led  down  the  hill 
on  a  slope  so  gentle  that  people  walking  on  it  came 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

within  sling  and  bow  range  of  much  of  the  fort's  eastern 
wall.  The  track  was  all  grassed  over.  It  was  not  even 
rutted.  Nobody  drove  to  Brown  Willy  now  that  the 
farmer  had  finished  his  pigsties.  The  road  was  perhaps 
seven  feet  wide.  The  outer  edge  or  side  had  a  slightly 
raised  rim.  The  earth  had  been  thrown  up  to  form  a 
ridge  about  a  foot  high.  It  was  enough  to  keep  chariot- 
wheels  from  going  off  the  road.  It  may  have  been 
enough  to  keep  cattle  on  the  track.  Cows  will  keep 
within  any  limits  suggested  to  them.  They  will  not 
cross  a  bank  a  foot  high,  unless  they  are  frightened  or 
hurried.     They  plod  on  ahead. 

The  three  discoverers  followed  down  the  road  till  they 
were  parallel  with  the  south  end  of  the  hill.  At  this 
point  the  track  entered  a  wood.  They  saw  that  it  ran 
on  down  the  hill,  through  the  wood,  inclining  towards 
the  river.  It  was  rather  overgrown  with  shrubs  and 
low-growing  plants,  but  its  course  was  easy  to  trace. 
They  followed  down  it  from  curiosity  to  see  where  it 
would  lead.  It  was  a  very  cleverly  laid  road.  It  went 
down  the  hill  at  a  gentle  gradient.  The  modern  road, 
farther  to  the  north,  was  dangerous  for  cyclists,  and  far 
too  steep  for  loaded  carts.  This  prehistoric  road  was 
made  by  people  who  knew  that  the  easiest  way  up  a 
hill  is  the  quickest  way  to  the  top.  At  the  end  of  the 
wood  the  hill  dipped  down  more  sharply  into  the  valley. 
The  road  led  along  an  open  hillside,  very  thickly  grown 
with  gorse  and  fern.  Here  the  party  had  to  leave  it, 
because  it  ran  through  cover  too  thick  to  break.  But, 
going  aside  to  the  brow  of  the  rise,  the  boys  saw  where 
it  reappeared  beyond  the  cover.    It  went  on  for  about  fifty 

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A    Book    of  Discoveries 

yards  towards  the  valley,  and  then  disappeared  into  a 
cornfield.  Beyond  the  cornfield  there  was  a  trace  of  it 
on  the  rissen.  Then  a  little-used  country-lane  cut  across 
at  right-angles.  The  hedges  at  the  sides  of  the  lane 
hid  its  further  course  from  view. 

''  It  keeps  pretty  well  below  this  rising  ground/*  said 
Mr.  Hampden.  ''  People  travelling  along  it  could  not 
be  seen  from  the  south." 

''  I  wonder  where  it  goes  to,  sir." 

"  I  expect  it  goes  on  to  the  ford,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 
"  That's  one  of  the  things  we  must  do  to-morrow : 
we'll  trace  it  out  as  far  as  we  can.  The  fields  have  been 
ploughed  up  a  good  deal,  but  we  shall  find  traces  of  it. 
I  dare  say  that  we  shall  find  a  little  fortified  place  for 
the  sentries,  not  far  from  the  ford.  I  shouldn't  wonder 
if  the  camp  up  there  was  first  pitched  as  a  customs-house. 
Perhaps  this  road  was  once  a  great  trade-route.  Men 
may  have  crossed  the  river  here  with  waggons  and  pack- 
horses.  The  King  on  this  side  may  have  taken  toll 
from  them.  This  land  must  have  been  crowded  with 
wonderful  living  people.  It  is  curious  that  we  know  so 
little  of  what  went  on." 

The  boys  grubbed  in  the  earth  of  the  ridge  at  the  road- 
side. They  hoped  that  they  might  turn  up  "  some  ancient 
British  coins,  or  perhaps  some  ancient  British  arrow- 
heads." Mac,  who  had  read  a  guide-book  of  the  district, 
remembered  that  British  coins  had  been  ploughed  up 
"  in  the  neighbourhood." 

**  Ought  people  to  be  allowed  to  plough  up  ancient 
roads  like  this,  sir  ?"  he  asked.  "  Oughtn't  these  places 
all  to  be  preserved  ?" 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  I  don't  see  why  they  should  be  preserved,"  said  Mr. 
Hampden.  *'  When  a  thing  has  outhved  its  use,  it  may 
be  kept  for  ornament.  I  don't  object  to  that.  But 
I'd  rather  see  this  road  ploughed  up  to  grow  food  for 
men  than  left  to  the  gorse  and  the  wood,  as  it  is  down 
there." 

**  Would  you  like  Brown  Willy  to  be  ploughed  up, 
sir  ?" 

"  No,  I  wouldn't.  Brown  Willy  is  one  of  the  places 
I  loved  when  I  was  a  boy.  Yet  I'd  like  Brown  Willy 
to  be  ploughed  into  kitchen-garden,  if  people  wanted  the 
land,  and  the  delight  of  getting  food  out  of  him.  I'd 
do  my  best  to  stop  anybody  sinking  a  mine  or  putting 
up  a  factory  here.  Mines  and  factories  pollute  the  air 
and  degrade  human  beings.  But  as  for  ploughing,  the 
hill  would  be  a  much  more  beautiful  sight  in  culture 
than  out  of  it.  You  know,"  he  went  on,  "  sl  great  deal 
of  bunkum  is  talked  about  the  preservation  of  things 
which  are  obsolete.  Living  human  beings  are  the  things 
to  preserve.  You  bear  that  fact  in  mind.  Never  you 
bother  about  camps  and  cattle-pens." 

They  turned  back  up  the  gently  sloping  road.  The 
boys  tried  to  imagine  themselves  ancient  Britons,  going 
home  from  the  ford. 

"  What  were  the  Britons  like  to  fight,  sir  ?"  was  one 
of  the  questions.     "  Were  they  as  good  as  the  Zulus  ?" 

When  they  reached  the  gate,  the  boys  persuaded  Mr. 
Hampden  to  be  the  judge  while  they  raced  from  a  given 
point  to  the  top  of  the  curtain.  Mac  was  a  clumsy 
climber  when  flurried.  Robin  won  the  race,  more  by 
luck   than   skill.     He  ran   to  the   curtain-end   to   look, 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  to  see  if  there  were  any  arrow-heads."     There  were  no 
arrow-heads,  but  in  the  platform  or  standing-place  at 
the  end  of  the  curtain  was  a  sort  of  hollowed-out  basin 
in  the  ground,  filled  rather  neatly  with  stones  of  about 
half  a  pound  weight.     The  stones  had  been  there  so 
long  that  they  had  settled  down.     They  had  sunk  upon 
each  other.     A  little  moss,  and  a  little  dusty  earth  flung 
upon  them  by  the  rain,  had  helped  to  bind  them  into  a 
mass.     They  were  now  pretty  tightly  packed. 
'*  What's  this,  sir  ?"  Robin  called. 
"  Is  it  a  sort  of  pit  full  of  stones  ?"  Mr.  Hampden  asked. 
"  Yes." 

"  I  don't  know  what  it. is,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  Hold 
on  a  minute  ;  I'll  come  up."  He  scrambled  up  to  the 
curtain-top.  "  I've  seen  stone-pits  just  like  this  on 
the  gates  of  two  or  three  camps,"  he  said.  "  I  don't 
know  what  they  were  for." 

"  Could  they  be  stones  ready  to  throw  at  an  enemy, 
sir  ?" 

"  They  might  be  that.  All  these  stones  have  been 
brought  from  a  distance.  Where  do  you  find  stones 
like  these  ?     You  ought  to  know  that." 

Mac  fingered  a  stone  much  as  Hamlet  fingers  Yorick's 
skull.  "  I  know  where  you  get  stones  like  these,"  he 
said.  "  Don't  you,  Robin  ?  In  the  fields  over  by  the 
Hazel." 

**  Five  or  six  miles  away,"  said  Robin. 
'*  And    the    stones    in    the    wall  —  where    were    they 
quarried  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  any  quarry  near  here  where  there's 
that  sort  of  stone." 

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"  I  vote,"  said  Robin — **  I  vote  we  pull  up  all  these 
stones,  and  see  how  far  down  they  go.  I  shouldn't 
wonder  if  we  came  across  something  underneath.  Should 
you,  sir  ?" 

"  You'll  find  the  bottom,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  But 
you'll  make  your  fingers  very  sore  before  you  get 
there." 

The  boys  began  to  grub  up  the  stones  with  their 
fingers.  What  was  underneath  the  stones  ?  Mr.  Hamp- 
den watched  them  for  a  few  minutes,  wishing  that  grown- 
up people  would  tackle  their  work  with  a  zest  as  great. 
He  smiled  to  hear  the  quick,  excited  comment  as  stone 
was  tossed  after  stone. 

"  There's  a  wolf  spider.  Mind  out,  or  you'll  catch 
her  egg-bag.  What's  that  ?  Oh,  it's  only  a  bit  of 
earth.  Here's  one  of  those  curly  things,  like  long,  thin 
wood-lice." 

"  Jarge  says  they're  young  adders." 

"  Shall  we  squelch  it  ?" 

"  No.     I  don't  believe  it's  an  adder." 

"  Adders  bite  hke  fun.  They  stand  on  the  end  of 
their  tails  when  they  bite.  Jarge  saw  two  of  them  once 
at  Waters  Orton.  He  teased  them  with  a  stick,  and  they 
stood  up  and  sissed  at  him." 

'*  It's  jolly  dangerous  to  fool  with  an  adder.  Jarge 
is  such  a  fool." 

By-and-by  Mac  knocked  the  skin  off  his  knuckles. 

'*  I'm  not  going  on,"  he  said.  *'  I  might  get  lockjaw 
if  I  go  on.  People  generally  get  lockjaw  if  they  get 
earth  into  a  cut."  He  sucked  the  scrape  with  all  his 
might.     **  And  then,"  he  went  on,  pausing  for  breath, 

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"  your  jaws  get  locked,  so  that  people  can't  force  them 
open  with  a  crowbar." 

He  would  have  asked  the  advice  of  Mr.  Hampden. 
But  Mr.  Hampden  had  stolen  away  to  lay  an  ambush 
behind  one  of  the  upper  mounds.     Robin  was  anxious. 

**  I  know  what  you  ought  to  do,"  Robin  said.  "  I'll 
strike  a  match  down  in  this  hole  we've  made,  and  while 
I  hold  the  match  you  put  your  knuckle  into  the  flame. 
That's  what  you  do  with  the  bite  when  a  mad  dog  bites 
you.  It  burns  out  the  stuff,  and  then  you  won't  get 
mad." 

The  thought  of  the  treatment  convinced  Mac  that  the 
earth  of  Brown  Willy  was  very  pure,  like  the  air  above 
it.  He  decided  that  he  would  not  be  cauterized.  A  few 
final  sucks  seemed  to  leave  the  wound  clean.  Robin, 
after  a  look  at  the  wound,  said  that  the  poison  was 
probably  all  sucked  away. 

"  Only  I  don't  know  whether  you  ought  to  have 
swallowed  it.  Some  day,"  he  said,  "  we  must  get  some 
of  those  things  the  doctors  have,  and  put  in  them  our 
belts,  in  case  we  should  want  them.  Tourniquets  to 
stop  you  bleeding  to  death,  and  to  stop  the  poison  going 
up  when  a  mad  dog  or  adder  bites  you,  and  powdered 
alum  and  cobwebs  to  stop  cuts  bleeding.  We  could 
easy  get  a  supply  of  cobwebs.  And  another  very  good 
thing  we  might  do  :  we  might  get  Mr.  Hampden  to  show 
us  how  he  bandaged  wounds  when  he  was  in  action.  I 
expect  that  was  interesting." 

"  Yes,  I  expect  it  was.     He  must  be  jolly  brave." 

"  Yes,  mustn't  he  !  I  wonder  what  sort  of  medicines 
the  ancient  Britons  had  when  they  got  wounded." 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  I  wonder.  I  say,  what  shall  we  do  with  all  these 
stones  we've  pulled  out  ?" 

"  I  suppose  we'd  better  put  them  back.  I  don't  think 
there's  anything  underneath." 

"  It's  a  swot  putting  them  all  back." 

They  had  pulled  out  some  thirty  pounds  of  stones. 
They  began  to  toss  them  back  into  the  pit. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Robin,  "  if  this  place  is  anything  at 
all.  It  might  be  just  a  fireplace — a  sort  of  lighthouse 
to  show  where  the  gate  was." 

"  The  stones  would  be  black  if  this  was  a  fireplace," 
said  Mac.  "  Fire  makes  a  thing  black  for  almost  ever. 
I  saw  a  brick  thing  once  which  was  burnt  fifteen  hundred 
years  ago.  It  was  still  all  black.  Where's  Mr.  Hampden 
gone  ?" 

"  Gone  to  clod  us." 

"  Come  on,  then.  We'll  get  some  clods  ready.  We'll 
walk  about  twenty  yards  apart,  and  then  we'll  catch 
him  between  two  fires." 

They  ran  along  the  curtain  to  the  lower  wall. 


197 


Chapter  XIV 


^FTER  the  battle  they  rested  in  the 
citadel.  At  the  extreme  south 
of  the  camp,  where  they  rested, 
the  walls  were  low.  The  boys 
asked  why  this  should  be. 

"  Partly  the  weather,"  said  Mr. 
Hampden.  "  Nearly  all  the  rain 
we  have  comes  from  the  south  and 
south-west.  Up  here  in  the  clouds 
the  wind  must  drive  the  rain  hard.  A  lot  of  those  walls 
must  have  been  washed  away.  But  very  likely  they 
were  left  low  like  that.  The  ground  beneath  may  once 
have  been  impassable  bog.  This  side  may  have  needed 
no  defence.  As  it  happens,  there  is  still  a  very  dangerous 
bog  just  below  the  lower  trench  there.  If  you  like,  you 
can  go  and  see  if  it  can  be  crossed." 
"  Would  it  swallow  you  up  ?" 

"  I  got  my  leg  into  it  once,  well  above  the  knee.  It 
seemed  to  suck  me  down.  If  I'd  not  been  with  a  friend, 
I  believe  I  should  have  lost  my  head,  and  floundered 
and  been  drowned.  It  is  called  the  Quaking  Bog.  You 
see  it  all  shake,  just  like  a  jelly,  when  somebody  puts  a 
foot  on  to  one  of  the  hags." 

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He  stood  up  to  show  the  boys  where  the  bog  lay.  The 
boys  stared. 

"  People  who  fall  into  bogs  are  mummied,  aren't 
they  ?'*  Robin  asked. 

"  Yes.     Something  in  the  water  preserves  them.** 

**  Then,  if  we  were  to  drain  away  that  bog,  we  might 
find  some  ancient  Britons  who*d  been  drowned.  We 
might  find  a  lot  who'd  come  up  here  one  night  to  attack, 
and  then  fallen  in  and  not  been  able  to  get  out.  And 
they  might  have  all  their  spears.  And  there  might  be 
a  chariot.'* 

*'  You'd  be  much  more  likely  to  find  a  few  sheep.  And 
draining  a  bog  is  a  long  business.  You  have  to  cut  such 
deep  drains.  We  can*t  do  that  to-day.  We  must  be 
seeing  about  our  camp.  Do  you  see  these  hollows  in 
the  ground  ?'* 

Yes,  the  boys  had  seen  them.  All  the  ground  in  the 
southern  part  of  the  citadel  was  pock-marked  with  the 
hollows.  There  must  have  been  a  couple  of  hundred  of 
them.  Some  were  ten  or  twelve  feet  across.  Most  of 
them  were  about  eight  feet  across.  They  were  shallow., 
irregular  pans  in  the  ground. 

"  Someone  has  had  the  turf  off  !*'  was  the  first  exclama- 
tion which  the  boys  made.  Turf  is  of  slow  growth. 
When  turf  is  removed  from  the  ground,  so  as  to  leave  a 
bald  patch,  the  mark  shows  for  many  years.  More  than 
turf  had  been  taken  from  these  hollows.  The  earth  had 
been  scooped  away.  Long  centuries  of  growth  and  death 
had  not  yet  filled  the  hollows.  The  marks  of  these  men, 
who  had  died,  perhaps,  when  Stonehenge  was  building, 
had  survived  half  a  dozen  empires. 

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"  The  hollows  show  where  the  huts  were,"  said  Mr. 
Hampden.  "  All  these  little  pans  were  once  homes. 
They  dug  a  hollow,  and  thatched  it  over  with  wattle 
and  dab.  There  were  huts  all  over  this  hill-top  once. 
For  some  reason  this  end  has  more  of  them  than  the 
other  end." 

"  Why  would  that  be,  sir  ?" 

"  I  don't  know.  They  may  have  felt  safer  at  the  end 
from  which  they  could  not  be  surprised.  Or  they  may 
have  liked  to  keep  the  cattle  at  the  north  end.  If  they 
were  people  who  minded  smell  at  all;  they  were  very  wise 
to  keep  on  the  side  from  which  the  prevalent  winds  blow." 

"  Did  they  have  haystacks  up  here,  for  the  cattle  in 
winter  ?" 

"  Either  haystacks  or  pits  for  the  storage  of  grass. 
They  had  clearings  in  the  forest.  They  grew  forage  for 
their  beasts  and  grain  for  themselves.  They  had  a  kind 
of  small  wheat.  They  ate  pretty  nearly  every  eatable 
thing  in  the  country.  In  one  of  the  big  hill- forts  which 
was  examined  carefully  some  years  ago  the  searchers 
found  a  lot  of  store-pits,  containing  different  kinds  of 
grain.  Some  of  the  grain  was  seed  from  some  of  the 
big  wild  grasses.  Nobody  eats  that  seed  now.  We  can 
get  supplies  from  over  the  sea.  Primitive  man  had  to 
depend  on  what  the  land  gave.  In  a  wet,  cold  country 
like  this,  the  supply  must  often  have  run  short.  In  the 
Middle  Ages  here  there  was  a  bad  harvest,  if  not  a  real 
famine,  once  in  every  seven  years.  Primitive  man  must 
have  suffered  more  than  medieval  man.  I  expect  always 
he  went  very  hungry  through  the  last  months  of  the 
winter.     But  he  was  like  other  savages  :  he  did  not  much 

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mind  what  he  ate.  If  he  wanted  food,  he  would  eat  to 
stop  the  craving,  even  if  the  food  were  worms,  or  slugs, 
or  clay  from  the  field.  He  would  get  food  of  a  kind  where 
you  or  I  would  lie  down  and  starve.  I  wish  that  a 
primitive  man  could  start  up  out  of  the  ground  here  to 
show  us  what  EnglivSh  roots  and  leaves  and  insects  can 
be  eaten  by  people  in  want  of  food." 

"  People  in  the   Irish  famine  ate  grass,   didn't  they, 


sir 


*'  Yes.  They  were  found  dead  with  their  mouths  all 
green  from  eating  grass.  In  one  of  the  books  about  the 
fighting  to  free  Greece  from  Turkey  (about  1825)  ^  young 
doctor  mentions  living  on  roasted  wasps.  Were  you  ever 
hungry  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir.     We're  hungry  now." 

"  Really  hungry  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Would  you  eat  roasted  wasps  ?" 

"  No,  sir." 

'*  You're  not  hungry.  You've  only  got  good  appe- 
tites. If  you  were  really  hungry,  you  would  think  of 
nothing  but  food — of  something  to  put  into  your 
mouth  and  gulp.  You  would  lie  awake  thinking  of 
something  going  down  the  gullet.  You  would  dream  of 
food.  And  when  you  came  to  food,  if  you  were  really 
hungry,  you  would  shake  all  over  and  feel  faint." 

*'  Were  you  ever  really  hungry,  sir  ?" 

"  Hungry  ?  I've  been  so  hungry  that  if  a  nice  plump 
boy  like  you  had  come  along,  I'd  have  sprung  at  him  and 
bitten  a  lump  right  out  of  him.  I  wouldn't  have  stopped 
for  salt  and^pepper." 

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The  boys  looked  at  each  other,  supposing  that  this 
was  "  only  one  of  his  yarns." 

*'  Is  tightening  the  belt  any  good  when  you're  hungry, 
sir  ?"  Mac  asked.  "  It  says  in  one  of  Captain  Mayne 
Reid's  books  that  it  is." 

"  Yes,  I  think  that  it  is  some  good.  If  you  think 
that  a  thing  is  doing  you  good,  it  does  you  good,  and 


"  '  I'd  have  sprung  at  him  and  bitten  a  lump  right  out  of  him.'  " 

continues  to  do  you  good.  I've  cured  more  than  one 
Australian  native  of  various  complaints  by  dropping  two 
spots  of  glycerine  into  a  cup  of  water,  and  telling  him  to 
**  drink  it  off,  because  it  was  strong  medicine,  able  to 
cure  a  dozen  men."  They  thought  that  I  was  a  tre- 
mendous fellow,  so  they  drank  off  the  dose,  and  then 
believed  that  it  was  doing  them  good,  and  at  last  it 
cured  them.     They  got  up  and  walked  about." 

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*'  And  if  you're  thirsty  do  you  bite  a  bullet,  sir  ? 
What  does  that  do  ?  They  do  that  in  one  of  Mayne 
Reid's  books/' 

"  It  doesn't  do  very  much  more  than  make  you  think 
that  you  are  quenching  your  thirst."  He  paused  to 
think  of  the  exact  effect  produced  by  it.  "It  makes  you 
think  of  the  bullet  instead  of  your  thirst,"  he  went  on, 
having  come  to  this  conclusion  ;  '*  that's  what  it  does. 
That's  something,  let  me  tell  you." 

"  When  you  come  to  water  when  you're  very  thirsty, 
sir,  do  you  just  rush  in  and  drink  and  drink  ?" 

"  If  you  do,  you  die  there  and  then.  No.  If  you're 
very  thirsty,  you  aren't  in  your  right  mind.  You  think 
that  water  is  fire,  and  fire  water.  Men  may  come  raving 
out  of  the  bush  and  fling  themselves  into  your  camp- 
fire,  thinking  they're  plunging  into  water.  I've  seen  a 
man  do  that.  Generally  the  tongue  and  mouth  are  so 
swollen  that  drinking  is  not  possible.  The  thirsty  man 
has  to  suck  it  in  by  spoonfuls,  holding  it  in  his  mouth  for 
a  long  time.  He  recovers  gradually,  but  it  is  a  tre- 
mendous strain  on  the  system."  He  stood  up,  looking  down 
the  hill.  "  Now,  come  on,"  he  said.  "  You  haven't  seen 
the  site  of  the  village  yet.     Come  on  down  the  hill  here." 

He  led  the  way  over  the  rampart  top  into  the  upper 
ditch,  then  over  the  wall  downhill.  The  boys  came 
leaping  after  him. 

They  pushed  downhill  till  they  came  to  the  big  spur 
which  made  Brown  Willy's  lower  south-west  side.  Its 
highest  ground  was  far  below  the  lower  wall  of  the 
fort.  The  nearest  part  of  the  wall  was  two  hundred 
yards  above,  out  of  shot  of  sling.     Though  it  was  only 

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three  hundred  feet  high,  the  heave  commanded  the  valley. 
It  was  higher  than  any  land  for  four  miles  to  the  west  of 
it.  It  had  steep  sides,  not  easy  to  climb.  From  the 
top  of  it  one  had  a  view  over  lovely  woodland  to  the 
hills  which  bounded  the  plain.  It  was  a  pleasant  place 
for  a  house,  pleasanter  than  the  top  of  Brown  Willy, 
where  the  winds  blew  a  gale  nine  days  out  of  ten.  But 
for  the  steep  climb  the  site  would  have  been  chosen  long 
before.  It  would  have  been  built  upon  for  the  sake  of 
the  view  and  the  sweetness  of  the  air.  Primitive  man 
had  built  upon  it  when  the  camp  on  Brown  Willy,  big 
though  it  was,  had  become  crowded.  Everywhere  upon 
the  spur  were  the  pock-markings  of  the  huts.  The  place 
must  once  have  been  a  populous  town.  It  looked  as 
though  the  top  of  the  spur  had  been  worn  level  by  long 
occupation.  The  place  was  as  wild  as  wild  Wales,  but 
in  spite  of  the  gorse  and  the  fern  which  made  such  a 
tangle  on  the  slopes,  there  was  a  suggestion  everywhere 
that  man  had  been  busy  there.  No  place  where  man  has 
lived  loses  its  memory  of  him.  Places  are  haunted  by 
all  the  life  which  they  have  known.  This  lonely  wild 
hill  of  the  west,  eight  miles  from  a  railway,  ten  from  a 
station,  eleven  from  a  market-town,  had  a  spirit  about 
it.  He  who  stood  there  felt  conscious  of  a  busy,  invisible 
life  about  him,  as  though  the  hill  were  still  thronged. 
It  had  once  been  a  town.  Men  and  women  had  lived 
their  lives  there.  Life  had  marked  it  for  ever.  One  felt 
that  the  hill  was  proud  to  remember  the  pageant  to 
which  it  gave  the  setting. 

The   settlement   on   the   spur   was   a   peaceful   settle- 
ment.    Early  man  would  not  have  left  the  shelter  of 

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Brown  Willy's  walls  without  good  reason  to  believe 
himself  safe.  As  far  as  the  boys  could  make  out,  the 
spur  had  not  been  stockaded.  The  pock-marks  of  the 
huts  spread  down  the  hill.  There  were  traces  of  them  on 
all  the  level  or  fairly  level  patches  of  the  lower  slopes. 
At  the  bottom  of  all,  where  the  hill  grass  ended  and 
woodland  began,  the  hollows  could  still  be  traced.  The 
ground  at  the  edge  of  the  wood  was  wet  with  many 
springs.  There  were  some  shallow  ponds,  almost  white 
with  a  many-blossomed  water-plant.  In  the  old  wet 
times  long  ago  the  bogs  must  have  made  that  side  of  the 
hill  difficult  to  approach. 

"  Are  these  the  ponds  where  they  got  their  water,  sir  ?" 

"  Come  into  the  wood  a  little,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 
"  I'll  show  you  what  they  did  for  water." 

He  led  the  way  for  some  thirty  yards  into  the  covert. 
He  stopped  at  the  edge  of  a  big  water-tank,  now  about 
eighteen  inches  deep.  It  was  foul  with  weed,  like  the 
other  J  ponds.  Trees  growing  over  it  had  dropped  dead 
branches  into  it.  Bunches  of  rushes  stuck  out  of  it,  like 
the  bristles  on  an  ill-shaved  chin.  It  was  marked  here 
and  there  with  those  scarlet  patches  of  minute  life  which 
appear  on  the  mud  of  shallow  ponds  in  the  warm  months. 
The  scarlet  patches  interested  Robin.  He  took  a  bit 
of  stick. 

*'  Watch  a  minute,"  he  said.  "  I'll  make  those  things 
disappear." 

He  thrust  the  stick  into  the  soft  mud  a  few  inches 
from  the  tremulous  scarlet  patch.  There  was  a  shrinking 
in  the  delicate  life.  It  seemed  to  shut  up  into  itself. 
It  disappeared  within  the  mud  with  the  completeness  of 

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something  sponged  away.  A  faint  reddish  filament 
showed  here  and  there  on  the  mud,  Hke  the  blood  streaks 
on  the  cheeks  of  old  people.  After  Robin  had  with- 
drawn the  stick,  the  scarlet  patch  reappeared,  as  scarlet 
and  as  delicate  as  before.  It  seemed  to  delight  in  the 
sunlight  which  fell  upon  it  in  the  chequering  of  many 
moving  branches.  It  trembled  as  though  trying  to  rise. 
Though  it  was  one  of  the  meanest  of  created  things, 
one  could  not  see  it  without  the  feeling  that  it  wanted 
to  rise  above  the  water,  into  the  light,  to  praise  God 
more  perfectly.  In  my  ignorance,  I  know  neither  the 
name  nor  the  nature  of  the  creature.  It  is  one  of  the 
many  thousand  things  which  give  delight  to  the  mind. 
Perhaps,  if  one  knew  that  it  had  a  vacuole,  and  a  blephara- 
plast,  and  all  the  rest  of  it,  one  would  like  it  no  better. 
Only  knowledge  is  always  good.  Boys  living  in  the 
country  should  have  enough  knowledge  of  the  creatures 
in  the  earth  about  them  to  enable  them  to  enter  into 
other  lives  than  their  own.  They  should  know  what  the 
red  thing  in  the  pond  eats,  how  the  weasel  hunts,  how 
the  partridge  calls  at  twilight.  There  is  no  greater 
delight  on  earth  than  to  enter  another  brain  by  an  act  of 
the  imagination.  Lying  stock-still  in  the  grass  watching 
life  at  work  in  fox  or  rabbit  makes  a  man  ashamed  of 
the  little  he  can  understand.  Life  is  always  miraculous. 
Life  is  the  lesson  never  learnt.  But  it  is  the  only  lesson 
worth  learning,  worth  trying  to  learn. 

The  pond  had  once  been  about  sixteen  yards  square. 
Some  of  it  was  no  longer  pond.  The  undergrowth  of 
the  wood  had  filled  up  nearly  half  of  it,  though  the 
lines  of  the  whole  were  still  visible.     It  was  a  neat  water- 

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tank.  The  sides  had  been  raised  to  keep  out  wandering 
cattle.  At  one  place  the  side  had  been  trodden  flat,  as 
though  by  many  hundreds  of  thirsty  people,  who  had 
there  quenched  their  thirst  and  filled  their  jars.  North 
of  the  tank  there  were  traces  of  an  artificial  watercourse, 
which  had  drawn  water  from  one  of  the  upper  ponds  to 
feed  the  tank.  The  ruin  and  rotting  which  goes  on  in 
woodland  every  autumn  had  long  since  choked  the 
channel  into  bog,  but  the  marks  of  it  were  plain  enough. 
Mr.  Hampden  thought  that  there  had  once  been  a  chain 
of  ponds,  linked  by  these  channels.  Twenty  centuries 
had  made  the  upper  pools  more  like  morasses.  There 
were  so  many  springs  on  the  lower  slopes  that  neglect 
had  turned  half  an  acre  of  ground  into  bog. 
**  So  this  is  where  they  got  their  water,  sir  ?" 
'*  Yes,  this  is  where  they  got  their  water.  There  is 
a  path  leading  up  the  slope.  It's  mostly  covered  with 
gorse,  but  you  can  see  the  line  of  it.  They  came  down 
here,  filled  their  jars,  and  went  back." 

"  But  supposing  people  came  to  besiege  the  fort  ?" 
"  No.  This  side  was  a  safe  side — the  friendly  side. 
But  even  if  the  place  were  besieged  closely  all  round,  you 
can  see  that  there  are  lots  of  springs  farther  up  the  hill. 
They  could  easily  make  a  big  pond  in  one  of  the  ditches. 
There  must  have  been  fully  three  times  as  much  water 
in  the  springs  then.  If  the  springs  failed,  they  could 
make  what  is  called  a  dew-pond — ^that  is,  a  big  shallow 
pan,  lined  with  clay.  Any  cold  surface  of  the  kind, 
exposed  to  the  night  air,  tends  to  precipitate  dew.  A 
properly  made  dew-pond  causes  the  dew  to  form  in  great 
quantity.     They   could   have   supplied   themselves   and 

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their  cattle  easily.  Some  day,  when  we  have  time,  we'll 
make  a  dew-pond.  At  present  we  must  make  a  camp. 
By  the  way,  you  see  that  yellow  flower  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  That  is  woad.  You  might  pick  a  little.  It  isn't 
very  common.  It  is  with  that  that  the  Britons  are 
supposed  to  have  stained  themselves  blue.  We'll  see  if 
we  can  stain  ourselves  blue.  A  light  dress  of  the  kind 
would  be  cooling.     It's  hot  enough  for  woad,  isn't  it  ?" 

The  boys  experimented  on  their  hands  with  the  juice  of 
the  plant. 

''  Don't  think  that  the  Britons  smeared  it  on,"  said 
Mr.  Hampden.  ''  All  the  painted  savages  whom  I  have 
seen  were  painted  with  very  delicate  art.  Some  of  the 
painting  and  tattooing  is  most  exquisitely  done.  I've 
seen  a  big  buck  chief  with  a  white  frill  painted  round 
his  throat  and  chest  exactly  like  the  finest  lace." 

"  Does  the  juice  alone  make  you  blue,  sir  ?" 

"No.  You'll  have  to  find  out  how  to  get  the  blue. 
The  Britons  were  very  fond  of  bright  colours.  They 
made  very  good  bright  green  and  red  dyes.  Now  we're 
going  to  be  ancient  Britons  for  the  next  twenty-four 
hours.  We'll  take  it  in  turns  to  be  chief.  I  shall  be 
chief  first,  because  I'm  the  oldest.  Each  chief  will  hold 
office  for  eight  hours.  I've  left  my  things  about  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  away.  We'll  go  and  get  them.  Where  shall 
we  camp — ^up  in  the  citadel  or  on  the  spur  there  ?  I 
strongly  recommend  the  spur.  It's  warmer,  and  you 
won't  have  to  carry  the  things  so  far.  But  if  you  would 
like  the  glory  of  being  on  the  top,  why,  we'll  go  to  the 
top.    The  wind  is  going  to  freshen.    You  won't  get  much 

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sleep  on  the  top  of  Brown  Willy  in  a  gale.  And  you'll 
hate  the  work  of  carrying  all  the  water,  and  firewood, 
and  heath  and  stuff." 

"  I  think,"  said  Robin,  "  we'd  best  hunt  about  and 
find  a  place  where  we  shan't  have  to  go  far  for  every- 
thing." 

"  I  vote  we  don't  go  up  to  the  citadel,"  said  Mac. 

They  carried  Mr.  Hampden's  gear  to  the  foot  of  the 
spur  in  three  journeys.  There  was  a  good  deal  of  gear. 
Among  it  was  a  bundle  of  long,  strong,  pliant  rods,  which 
were  to  be  the  framework  of  the  hut.  The  heaviest  part 
of  the  load  was  a  roll  of  felt  for  the  covering  of  the  frame- 
work. They  laid  the  stuff  together,  and  prepared  to 
seek  for  a  camping-ground.  Mac  was  sent  to  the  top 
to  bring  down  the  packs  from  the  place  where  they  had 
been  left.  Robin  and  Mr.  Hampden  went  round  the 
spur  to  find  a  camp. 


''-r^- '■»'-- 


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Chapter  XV 


Rather   below  the   main   spur,   on 
the    north-west    side,    they    came 
upon   a   triangular   cleft   between 
^  MF\X         W     ^^^    great    rolls    of    earth.     The 
M    ^yj  \\  place    was    an    inner    wedge    of 

sheltered  valley,  hidden  by  the 
rolls  from  the  north,  east,  and 
south.  The  little  valley  was  about 
twenty  yards  long  by  fifteen  yards 
across  at  the  broadest  part,  near  the  mouth.  The  look 
of  the  grass  on  the  floor  of  the  valley  reminded  Robin  of 
the  look  of  the  grass  in  the  ditches.  It  had  a  peculiar 
light  in  it. 

"  What  gives  the  grass  that  look  ?"  he  asked. 
*'  I  don't  know,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  But  all  the 
grass  on  ground  much  trodden  by  primitive  man  seems 
to  have  that  look.  I've  noticed  it  in  many  places. 
Perhaps  it  is  because  you  see  it  in  hollows  of  the  ground. 
The  light  comes  queerly  to  it.  This  place  has  been  a 
cattle-pen.  They've  stockaded  up  the  mouth  and  kept 
their  beasts  here." 

Certainly  the  ground  at  both  sides  of  the  mouth  of 
the  cleft  had  been  prepared  as  though  to  receive  palisades 
for  the  enclosure  of  the  little  valley.     The  floor  of  the 

210 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

valley  had  been  sloped  artificially.  Man  had  spent  a 
good  deal  of  thought  there  long  ago. 

"  We'll  camp  here,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  He  took 
Robin  by  the  scruff  of  the  neck  and  walked  him  to  the 
opening.  "  Yes,"  he  said  ;  "  man  ran  a  palisade  across 
from  that  mound  to  this.  WTien  we're  ready  for  the 
night  we'll  dig  up  some  of  the  ground  to  see  if  we  can 
find  the  ends  of  the  pales.  They  hardened  and  sharpened 
their  pales  in  the  fire.  The  burning  preserves  them. 
We  are  sure  to  find  some.  Now,  you  run  up  to  the  top 
of  the  spur  and  flag-wag  with  your  handkerchief  to  your 
brother.     I  suppose  you  can  flag- wag  ?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"  What  !  You  go  about  with  your  brother  day  after 
day,  and  can't  flag- wag  ?  Can  you  semaphore  with  your 
arms  ?" 

''  No,  sir." 

"  You  must  learn.  Well,  run  up  and  wave  your 
handkerchief,  to  show  him  where  we  are." 

"  Suppose  I  make  a  smoke,  sir." 

**  All  right ;  make  a  smoke." 

This  was  Robin's  first  attempt  at  making  a  smoke 
signal.  He  set  about  it  with  zest.  He  had  noted  some 
biggish  fire-blackened  stones  in  one  of  the  pock-markings 
on  the  slope  of  the  spur.  He  made  his  jacket  into  a 
sort  of  sack,  and  carried  down  a  few  of  them  for  his 
fireplace.  He  was  well  used  to  the  making  of  fires  in 
the  open.  He  took  care  to  light  the  fire  well  to  the  lee- 
ward of  the  site  of  the  hut.  Very  soon  he  had  a  column 
of  smoke  ascending.  He  had  read  somewhere,  in  some 
book  of  adventure  among  the  Red  Indians,  that  it  was 

211 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 


I 


d'^^. 


the  custom  of  Indians  to  check  the  smoke  by  covering 
the  fire  with  turf.  There  was  some  system  of  signalUng 
by  suddenly  checking  the  smoke.  He  felt  that  Mac 
had  never  properly  tried  the  different  methods  of 
signalling.  That  was  because  they  were  so  much 
together.  They  were  seldom  separated. 
But  this  camp-fire  way  of  signalling  seemed 
a  good  one.  Suppose  they  should  be 
separated.  Suppose  one  of  them  were  to 
go  to  the  camp  one  day,  leaving  the  other  at 
home,  finishing  a  job  for  mother,  rolling  the 
lawn,  or  marking  the  tennis-court.  Why 
should  not  the  one  in  camp  signal  back, 
"All  clear,"  or  "Nothing  in  the  traps,"  or 
"  A  fox  has  grubbed  up 
the  cache  "  ?  And  then 
they  must  try  the  flag- 
wagging  and  the  sema- 
phore. They  could  make 
signal  flags.  They  could 
ask  their  mother  for  some 
of  the  little  print  Union 
Jacks  which  had  been  hung 
out  of  the  windows  on 
Coronation  Day.  They 
could  easily  fix  them  on 
to  garden  sticks.  The  semaphore  would  be  fun,  too. 
They  could  do  it  from  far  off  with  their  arms.  They 
could  invent  a  secret  code  of  their  own.  And  then 
at  parties,  when  the  grown-ups  were  talking  about 
stupid  things,  they  could  signal  to  each  other  by  their 

212 


"  Very  soon  he  had  a  column  of 
smoke  ascending." 


A    Book    of   Discoveries- 


fingers,  and  no  one  would  know.  They  might  be  able  to 
have  long  conversations  together.  Then,  there  was  the 
knocking  system.  He  had  read  somewhere  of  prisoners 
in  the  Bastille,  or  in  some  other  prison,  conversing 
together  by  knocking  on  the  walls.  One  tap  upon  the 
wall  meant  A,  two  taps  B,  and  so  on  to  Z.  It  must  have 
been  very  slow.  And  perhaps  outside  the  dungeon 
door  someone  would  be  listen- 
ing and  listening,  taking  it 
all  down,  spelling  it  out, 
learning  when  the  attempt 
to  escape  would  be.  And 
then,  when  the  night  of  the 
escape  came,  when  one 
snapped  through  the  well- 
filed  bars  and  lowered  oneself 
down  by  a  rope  of  knotted 
blanket-strips,  there  would 
be  black  musketeers  at  the 
bottom,  with  masks  over 
their  faces.  A  voice  would 
say,  '*  Take  him  to  the 
Little  Ease."  And  after- 
wards one  would  lie  in  the 
Little  Ease,  cramped  up, 
knees  touching  chin.  The  irons  would  rust  into  wrists 
and  ankles.  People  would  forget.  The  gaolers  would 
forget. 

Long  afterwards  somebody  would  burst  in  the  door, 
and  find  a  few  bones  dangling  from  chains,  and  perhaps 
a  legend,  scratched  with  overgrown  finger-nails  by  the 

213 


Prisoners  conversing  by  knock- 
ing on  the  walls." 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

light  of  the  one  sunbeam  which  came  through  a  mouse- 
hole  just  at  sunset  : 

"  Forty  years, 
480  months, 
2,080  weeks, 
14,560  days." 

That  was  the  kind  of  thing.  The  number  of  hours 
and  seconds  needed  paper  and  pencil.  Another  thing 
which  they  ought  to  do  was  to  invent  a  secret  alphabet. 
The  two  Bramptons  at  school  had  a  secret  alphabet. 
Their  father  had  made  it  for  them.  He  was  an  artist. 
But  the  Bramptons  had  mixed  up  the  letters  afterwards, 
so  that  not  even  their  father  could  read  a  word  written 
in  them.  It  was  a  fine  little  alphabet,  with  little  pictures 
of  ships  and  horses.  The  Bramptons  could  write  notes 
to  each  other  during  prep.  He  thought  of  all  these 
things  as  he  got  his  fire  under  way.  When  it  was  burning 
vigorously,  he  covered  the  hottest  parts  with  a  thin 
layer  of  moist  leaves,  gathered  from  one  of  the  boggy 
patches  at  the  edge  of  the  wood.  The  burning  instantly 
changed  to  a  most  profuse  yellowish  smoke,  which  rose 
in  a  thick  column  high  above  the  tree-tops.  He  did  his 
best  to  cut  the  column,  by  covering  the  fire  with  turf, 
but  he  failed.  Mr.  Hampden  called  to  him  to  take  the 
big  waterproof  blanket.  He  turned  round,  and  lo  !  the 
hut  was  ready.  The  turf  had  been  sliced  off,  rolled  up, 
and  arranged  ready  to  hand.  The  surface  earth  had  been 
scraped  away.  The  framework  of  the  hut  was  ready 
to  receive  the  covering.  He  left  his  signalling  at  once. 
This  tepee,  or  wigwam,  was  much  more  to  his 
mind. 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  How  splendid  !"  he  said.  "  How  splendid  !  Isn't  it 
simply  splendid  !" 

"  Before  we  put  the  cover  on,"  said  Mr.  Hampden, 
"  we'll  put  the  rubber  boat-rug  down,  double,  on  the 
ground,  to  sleep  on.  I  must  run  no  risk  with  you  two 
delicate  lilies.  I'm  going  to  make  this  place  as  snug  as 
a  house.  If  I  were  alone,  I'd  just  scrape  a  hole  in  the 
ground  to  take  my  hip-bone  when  I  lie  on  my  side.  You 
must  have  more  than  that.  Do  you  remember  a  patch 
of  thick  heath  just  where  the  spur  joins  on  to  the  hill- 
side ?  You  asked  if  it  were  heather.  Do  you  remember 
the  place  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir — perfectly." 

"  Could  you  find  your  way  back  to  it  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  take  this  tarpaulin.  You've  got  a  good 
knife  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Out  came  the  knife  to  bear  witness  to  its  goodness. 
It  was  a  sheath-knife,  or  dagger  carried  at  the  back, 
sailor  fashion,  in  a  sheath  secured  to  the  belt.  A  sheath- 
knife  is  much  the  best  sort  of  knife  a  boy  can  have. 
It  makes  him  careful  both  of  the  blade  and  in  the  manner 
of  using  it.  It  compels  the  owner  to  wear  a  belt  instead 
of  braces.  As  it  is  a  simple  weapon,  with  only  one  blade, 
it  does  not  encourage  idleness.  A  boy  with  a  four- 
bladed  knife  will  blunt  all  four  blades,  one  after  the 
other,  before  he  thinks  of  having  the  knife  sharpened ; 
but  with  only  one  blade  for  all  purposes,  a  boy  is  prompted 
to  keep  a  whetstone,  and  to  learn  how  to  use  it.  Both 
Robin  and  Mac  were  very  proud  of  their  knives.     They 

215 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

kept  them  both  sharp  and  bright.  They  used  them  so 
often,  for  so  many  different  things,  that  the  knives  had 
become  their  friends.  If  either  of  them  walked  alone, 
late  at  night,  in  a  dreary  part  of  the  country — as,  for 
instance,  when  coming  home  in  the  winter  with  the  late 
post  from  Waters  Orton — the  feel  of  the  knife  in  its 
sheath  was  comforting.  While  that  was  there  one  had  a 
comrade.  The  knife  was  a  friend  in  the  dark.  Both 
boys  felt  for  their  knives  something  of  the  affection 
which  a  savage  feels  for  a  trusty  weapon.  Men  have 
something  of  the  same  fondness  for  their  favourite  pipes 
and  walking-sticks  ;  but  neither  pipe  nor  stick  can  be  so 
dear  to  man  as  a  knife  is  to  a  boy.  When  a  boy  has  a 
good  strong  knife  which  cannot  shut  up  on  his  lingers 
while  he  uses  it,  he  is  a  king  over  all  the  world  which 
interests  him.  He  can  dig  with  it ;  he  can  cut  sticks 
of  any  thickness  ;  he  can  fling  at  a  target.  He  can 
imagine  it  to  be  a  cutlass,  a  lance,  or  a  rapier,  a  bayonet, 
a  harpoon,  or  an  assegai,  as  the  fancy  colours  his  mind 
at  the  moment.  To  Mac  and  Robin  the  big  manly  knives 
were  an  ever-present  prompting  towards  manliness. 
With  such  powerful  tools  in  their  hands  they  were  able 
to  attempt  bigger  feats  than  most  boys.  And  though 
the  feats  which  they  could  do  amounted  only  to  this — 
that  they  could  cut  bigger  sticks  and  attempt  bigger 
subjects  in  taxidermy  than  boys  with  the  ordinary 
pocket-knives,  they  felt  that  the  possession  of  such 
knives  put  them  above  littleness. 

Mrs.  Shenstone  did  not  like  the  sheath-knives.  She 
felt  that  the  boys  would  "  put  each  other's  eyes  out," 
or  fall  upon  them  somehow,  as  a  Roman  of  the  good 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

time  fell  upon  his  sword.  But  time  went  on,  and  neither 
thing  happened.  The  worst  that  came  of  them  happened 
on  the  day  of  their  arrival.  The  boys  went  out  to  play 
at  Red  Indians.  Mac,  the  stronger  of  the  two,  seized 
Robin,  and  scalped  him  close  to  the  skin,  taking  off  a 
good-sized  tuft.  The  knife-blade  was  blunt  at  the  time, 
and  "  scalping  "  with  a  blunt  knife,  even  without  raising 
the  skin,  is  very  painful  to  the  person  scalped.  Robin 
had  howled,  and  there  had  been  a  battle. 

Robin  pulled  out  his  knife. 

"  What  do  you  call  your  knife  ?"  Mr.  Hampden 
asked. 

"  Moro,  sir." 

"Why  Moro  ?" 

"  After  a  horse  in  the  *  War  Trail,'  sir." 

"  Well,  take  Moro,  then,  and  cut  a  tarpaulinful  of 
heath.  Heath  is  very  good  stuff  to  sleep  on.  Unless 
you'd  prefer  gorse  ?" 

"  And  shall  I  cut  some  fern,  sir  ?" 

"  No  ;  don't  take  the  fern  if  you  can -get  plenty  of 
heath.  No  one  uses  the  heath,  but  several  people  have 
rights  of  cutting  fern  here,  for  stabling.  We  mustn't 
rob  them." 

Robin  piled  a  turf  upon  his  fire  to  keep  it  alive  till 
he  returned.  He  then  set  out  to  cut  heath  for  bedding. 
On  his  way  up  the  spur  he  met  Mac,  who  was  coming 
down.     Mac  was  cross  from  the  weight  of  the  packs. 

*'  Where  are  you  going  ?"  Mac  asked  grumpily. 

"  Going  to  cut  heath  for  bedding." 

"  What  have  you  been  doing  ?" 

"  Making  smoke-signals  to  you.     Did  you  see  them  ?" 

217 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  No.  I've  had  other  things  to  think  about,  dragging 
all  this  load.'* 

"  How  did  you  know  whereabouts  we  were,  then  ?" 

"  I  saw  the  smoke,  of  course." 

*'  Well,  if  you  saw  the  smoke,  you  saw  the  signal. 
And  Mr.  Hampden  has  made  a  simply  clinking  little 
wigwam,  and  we're  to  sleep  in  it,  and  stand  guard." 

This  news  cheered  Mac.  He  went  on  down  to  the 
cleft,  singing  what  he  called  his  war-song.  It  was  a  noisy 
ditty  about  "  the  enemy  being  in  sight."  It  went  to  the 
tune  of  "  We  won't  go  home  till  morning." 

Robin  made  two  or  three  journeys  to  the  patch  of 
heath.  By  a  quarter  to  one  he  had  cut  enough  heath 
to  cover  the  floor  of  the  wigwam  several  inches  deep. 
While  he  gathered  heath,  Mr.  Hampden  and  Mac  went 
down  to  the  covert  below  the  hill  for  some  fir-boughs, 
which  they  stripped  of  their  needles  to  add  to  the  covering 
of  the  floor.  The  boughs  blazed  up  well  on  the  fire. 
The  needles  and  the  heath  together  made  a  beautifully 
soft  mattress.  The  boys  sprawled  upon  it  to  test  it. 
It  was  like  sprawling  on  a  good  spring  mattress.  Mr. 
Hampden  told  them  to  jest  there  while  he  got  dinner 
ready.  He  was  afraid  that  they  might  get  overtired  in 
the  heat  of  the  day.  They  rested  for  a  few  minutes, 
thinking  that  they  were  British  warriors  on  the  war-path, 
hiding  in  a  secret  ravine,  or  pirates  just  landed  on  an 
island,  or  some  of  Bendigo  Mitchell's  men,  waiting  for 
the  coach  to  pass. 

Mr.  Hampden,  rummaging  in  his  own  stores  and  those 
of  the  boys,  chose  out  the  ham,  some  eggs,  and  a  few 
beef  sausages.     He  wanted  the  dinner  to  be  one  of  the 

2i8 


"  He  met  Mac  coming  down. 


A    Book    of    Discoveries 

delights  of  the  day.  He  planned  to  fry  them  all  up 
together,  with  some  brown  bread,  potatoes,  and  a  half- 
hand  of  wood-sorrel,  for  the  first  course.  The  second 
course  was  to  be  potted  meat  spread  upon  ship's  biscuit. 
He  was  going  to  tell  them  that  the  potted  meat  was 
pemmican.  The  third  course  was  to  be  plums  from  his 
own  garden.  The  fourth  course  was  to  be  chocolate. 
He  did  not  understand  why  the  boys  had  brought  corn. 
He  supposed  that  it  had  something  to  do  with  Julius 
Caesar.  He  smiled,  remembering  how,  as  a  boy,  he  had 
once  boiled  and  eaten  a  plateful  of  corn.  It  had  been 
like  making  a  meal  of  minute  snippings  from  the  outer 
tyre  of  a  bicycle.  He  laid  out  his  dinner-table  not  far 
from  the  fire.  Then  he  got  ready  all  his  cooking  things. 
He  put  the  butter  into  a  bowl  of  water  ;  he  afterwards 
covered  the  bowl  with  wetted  flannel,  so  that  the  butter 
should  remain  firm.  He  hung  up  the  canvas  water-bag, 
which  had  been  with  him  for  so  many  miles  in  waterless 
parts  of  Australia.  He  explained  to  the  boys  that  the 
evaporation  from  the  canvas  would  keep  the  water 
within  as  cold  as  ice.  He  greased  his  frying-pan,  stirred 
up  his  fire,  and  set  to  Work.  The  boys  offered  to  come 
to  help  him,  but  he  told  them  to  rest. 

"  In  camp/'  he  said,  "  each  man  does  the  job  set  to 
him.  I  am  cook.  After  dinner  you'll  have  to  help  wash 
up,  and  gather  more  firewood.  You  rest  now,  and  try 
to  get  cool  for  dinner." 

The  boys  sprawled  back  upon  the  springy  bed  of  the 
heath.  Robin  was  happier  than  he  had  ever  been. 
Once  before,  when  Jowett's  Circus  came  to  Waters 
Orton,  he  had  known  supreme  joy.     But  the  circus  had 

2:^1 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

lasted  only  for  an  afternoon.  The  procession  in  the 
morning  was  something  thrown  in  as  a  makeweight, 
and  to  see  them  going  away  in  their  vans  the  next  day 
was  an  after-taste.  The  elephants  had  gone  slumping 
by,  looking  strangely  cold  in  their  great  grey  floppy 
hides  compared  with  the  piebalds  at  the  cart-tails. 
The  clown  had  come  along,  smoking  a  pipe.  The  ring- 
master had  walked  with  him,  smoking  a  cigarette.  They 
had  looked  like  ordinary  people.  The  rain  was  falling. 
Mac  and  Robin  had  watched  them  pass  by,  huddled  into 
their  coats,  the  horses  steaming,  the  gilt  of  two  or  three 
processional  cars  looking  very  dingy  in  the  mud.  The 
wild  beasts  grumbled  and  growled  as  their  van  jolted. 
Then  they  passed  out  of  sight  round  the  corner,  along 
the  old  British  portway.  They  had  never  come  back. 
A  few  waggons  showed.  By  standing  on  the  gate's  bars 
the  boys  had  seen  over  the  hedge-tops.  They  had  seen  the 
backs  of  the  elephants,  moving  along  with  a  rippling  move- 
ment, rather  like  that  of  caterpillars.  Presently  they  were 
out  of  sight  with  the  rest.  They  had  passed  out.  When 
they  had  gone,  something  very  wonderful  in  life  was  gone. 
The  next  greatest  joy  in  the  boys'  lives  had  been  the 
passing  of  the  soldiers.  Two  years  before  this  story 
begins  there  had  been  army  manoeuvres  on  a  big  scale 
in  that  country.  A  Red  Army  had  tried  to  invade  the 
Blue  territory,  in  which  Waters  Orton  stood.  The  Blue 
Army,  making  a  forced  march,  fell  on  the  right  flank  of 
the  Red  Army,  rolled  it  up  on  to  its  centre,  cut  it  from 
its  base,  and  forced  it,  so  the  umpires  said,  to  lose  all 
its  infantry.  The  boys  heard  the  roar  of  the  battle 
ten  or  twelve  miles  away.     That  was  exciting.     But  the 

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A    Book    of    Discoveries 

wonderful  thing  was  the  passing  of  the  Blue  troops  on 
their  way  to  the  battle.     The  day  before  the  troops  passed 
stray  cavalrymen  came  scouting.     One  or  two  men  with 
rifles  cycled  through  Waters  Orton,  climbed  to  the  top 
of  Toot  Hill,  and  gazed  at  the  landscape  through  glasses. 
Then,  just  at  lunch-time  the  next  day,  a  squadron  of 
Lancers   came   cantering   up.     After    them    came   some 
Dragoons.     Then  regiment   after   regiment,  horse,  foot, 
and  guns ;  thousands  of  men,  with  a  mile  or  two  of 
waggons.     The  boys  thought  that  they  would  never  pass. 
They  poured   in,   dusty,   sweating,   worked  to   the   last 
ounce,   none  of  them  speaking,   all  "  cooked,"   all  the 
officers  carrying  two  or  three  rifles,  the  sergeants  excited, 
a  great  cloud  of  dust  floating  up  over  the  whole.   A  battery 
of  field  guns  halted  in  the  road  opposite  where  the  boys 
were   standing.     The   horses   sweated,    dropping   foam ; 
their  flanks  heaved.     The  soldiers  shifted  in  their  seats, 
looking  ahead.     Presently  an  orderly  came  galloping  up 
to  give  a  paper  to  an  officer..    The  smell  of  dust  was  very 
strong,   and  the  road  was  much  broken  by  the  guns. 
The  officer  read  the  paper,  and  called  something.     Some- 
body blew  a  bugle.     The  men  caught  up  their  horses. 
The  horses  seemed  to  start  into  life,  as  though  they  knew 
what  the  bugle   meant.     Chains  clanked  as  the  traces 
tautened.     Mac  said  something  about  a  battle,  and  the 
shells  going  to  go  off.     The  dust,  which  had  settled  down 
in  the  brief  halt,  rose  up  again  at  once  in  a  great  cloud. 
It  made  a  blur  all  along  the  road,  a  blur  of  grey  through 
which  one  saw  the  drivers,  their  eyebrows  puckered  to 
the  dust,  and  the  men  sitting  still  upon  the  limbers,  as 
though  they  were  a  part  of  them.     More  bugles  sounded 

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far  away.  A  man  came  tearing  down  the  ranks  at  a 
gallop  to  shout  aloud  to  the  rear  guns.  The  wheels  made 
a  heavy  rolling  grind.  Hoofs  struck  out  sparks  upon 
the  stones  torn  loose  from  the  road.  The  guns  went 
past,  all  pointed  downwards,  just  as  though  they  were 
deep  in  thought.  And  after  they  had  all  gone  some  men 
drove  up  a  waggon,  hitched  to  a  team  of  mules.  The 
waggon  had  a  huge  red  cross  upon  its  side.  The  drivers 
were  very  hot  and  very  merry.  They  sang  a  song  about 
"  it  breaking  their  hearts  to  go,  ta  ra  ra."  Mac  said  that 
the  waggon  was  the  ammunition- waggon.  The  drivers, 
he  said,  were  merry  because  they  wouldn't  have  to  be 
firing,  and  very  likely  wouldn't  get  killed. 

After  they  had  passed  the  roads  became  quiet.  The 
dust  slowly  settled  down,  till  it  lay  like  a  soft,  thick 
covering  on  the  road.  Everybody  in  the  village  ran  out 
to  follow  the  guns  ;  but  the  guns  were  out  of  sight,  far 
on  ahead,  somewhere  below  a  cloud  of  dust  which  rose 
high  above  the  hedge.  Mac  and  Robin  had  run,  too, 
to  see  the  battle,  but  they  only  saw  a  couple  of  weary 
regiments  lying  on  the  broad  grassy  horse-path  at  the 
roadside.  A  little  knot  of  officers  talked  together  in  the 
middle  of  the  road.  One  of  them  was  explaining  some- 
thing on  a  map.  Mac  and  Robin  stood  staring  at  a 
distance,  afraid  to  go  very  near.  By-and-by  the  bugle 
called  the  men  to  fall  in.  They  fell  in  swiftly.  Sergeants 
and  officers  spoke  sharply.  A  clear  note  came  from  the 
bugle.  Far  away  a  man  on  a  horse  shouted  something 
like  the  howl  of  a  dog.  The  regiments  stepped  out  with 
a  swing.  It  seemed  to  the  boys  that  they  stepped  out 
the  faster  when  a  dozen  rifle-shots  cracked  far  ahead. 

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Chapter  XVI 


OTH  those  days  were  red-letter  days 
in  the  hves  of  the  boys,  but  this 
day  on  Brown  Willy  surpassed  them 
both.  They  were  to  sleep  out  of 
doors,  like  ancient  Britons.  They 
were  to  have  a  camp  fire,  a  watch- 
word, and  sentry-go.  They  won- 
dered whether  they  would  be  able 
to  come  there  often.  Instead  of 
having  a  gang,  as  they  had  planned  that  morning,  they 
might  have  a  tribe.  They  could  get  three  or  four  other 
boys  to  join  them.  They  could  come  there  sometimes 
at  night,  perhaps.  They  could  let  themselves  down  out 
of  their  bedroom  windows. 

'*  We  could  creep  round  to  the  Rectory,  and  get  a 
little  gravel  and  fling  it  up  to  Colin's  window.  Then 
Colin  could  creep  round  on  tiptoe  and  wake  Julian,  and 
then  they  could  both  slide  down  ropes  out  of  the  window. 
Or  we  could  send  out  a  fiery  cross  to  Colin  and  the  two 
Higginsons,  and  perhaps  to  Lance  as  well.  We  could 
put  a  slip  of  writing :  *  N.E.  8  miles  when  the  moon  doth 
rise.'  And  then  bind  a  strip  of  heather  round  the  cross. 
And  then  they  would  think  :  'N.E.  8  miles,  and  a  sprig 
of  heather  ?     That  would  mean  Brown  Willy.     There's 

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only  heather  on  Brown  Willy,  and  that's  eight  miles 
north-east.'  Then  they  would  come  to  Brown  Willy, 
and  we'd  have  a  beacon  burning,  or  scouts  out.  And 
as  they  came  near  we  could  hoot  like  owls,  or  make  a 
noise  like  bats,  and  they  would  answer  ;  and  then  We 
Would  camp  together,  or  perhaps  creep  out  together,  and 
go  along.  .  .  .  And  /  know  what  we  could  do  :  we  could 
leave  word  the  night  before  that  we  "wouldn't  be  back  till 
middle  day,  or  even  tea-time,'  and  we  could  go  down  to 
the  river — it's  not  so  very  much  farther — where  the 
ford  is.  And  we  could  cut  out  a  boat  from  the  ferryman, 
and  go  and  be  pirates  down  the  river.  Or,  I  know  what. 
We  could  take  our  own  boat,  and  drop  her  down  through 
Mr.  Hampden's  lake.  It's  not  many  miles.  And  before 
very  long  we  should  come  to  where  it  broadens  out,  just 
where  it  runs  into  the  Gara.  There's  an  island  there. 
We  could  camp  there.  And  we  could  lie  in  ambush,  and 
if  any  ship  came  up  out  of  the  Gara  into  our  river,  we 
could  whang  at  her.  Or  we  could  put  up  false  lights, 
so  that  she  would  think  the  island  where  we  were  the 
mainland,  and  run  ashore.  Then  we  would  tell  the  crew 
to  come  ashore,  or  '  suffer  the  mercy  of  the  sea.'  That's 
what  the  pirates  always  did.  Of  course,  '  the  mercy  of 
the  sea  '  was  when  they  threw  a  person  into  the  sea  with 
round  shot  round  his  heels.  And  he  went  down  and 
down  in  among  the  coral.  I  dare  say  there's  coral  in 
the  Gara.  It  would  be  fine  if  we  could  get  a  boat-load 
of  coral.  We  could  easy  get  it,  I  expect.  We'd  put  down 
an  anchor,  and  then  we'd  climb  down  the  cable  under  the 
water,  like  they  made  the  slaves  do,  and  then  you  pick 
great  sprays  of  coral,  either  red  or  white,  like  picking 

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flowers,  and  then  climb  back  with  it.  And  when  the 
crew  came  ashore,  we  would  maroon  them.  We  would 
give  them  a  musket  between  them,  'cos  I  expect  there'd 
be  wild  goats  on  the  island.  Goats  are  awfully  wild. 
They  swim  on  to  islands  to  get  away.  You  know, 
the  people  here  say  that  all  goats  belong  to  the  Devil, 
and  that  they  go  to  the  Devil  for  one  hour  every  day. 
So  if  a  farmer  tries  to  shut  up  a  goat,  it's  no  good,  'cos 
it's  got  to  go  to  the  Devil  at  twelve  o'clock.  I  wonder, 
if  we  watched  a  goat,  we  would  find  out  where  it  goes 
down.  I  expect  it  eats  a  kind  of  plant,  and  goes  round 
backwards  three  times.  That's  what  the  witches  did. 
And  then  it  disappears,  and  leaves  its  skin  on  the  ground. 
And  by-ahd-by  it  comes  back,  when  the  hour's  up,  and 
puts  on  the  skin  again.  We  could  chain  up  a  goat  some 
day  and  watch.  And  then,  if  you  take  the  skin  away, 
the  goats  haunt  you.  So  that's  why  goats  always  go 
to  islands,  'cos  there  they  can  take  off  their  skins. 

"  And  when  we  marooned  people  on  the  island, 
we'd  tell  them  where  the  powder  and  ball  would  be 
buried,  so  that  they  could  shoot  the  goats.  And  then 
we'd  take  their  ship.  We'd  get  her  off  the  rocks,  and 
mend  her,  and  we  could  go  cruising  up  the  Gara.  And 
there 'd  be  little  brass  cannons  on  both  sides  of  the  deck, 
sticking  out  of  little  portholes,  and  we  wouldn't  want 
much  crew.  Colin  and  Julian  and  the  two  Higginsons, 
and  perhaps  Peter.  Or  I  vote  not  Lance — Lance  is 
such  an  ass.  And  we'd  have  a  little  cabin,  with  pistols 
in  it,  and  bunks  with  curtains,  like  real  sailors  ;  and  we'd 
have  a  secret  island  of  our  own,  with  a  little  town  on  it. 
And  perhaps,  cruising  about,  we  might  land  on  an  Indian 

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island,  and  find  an  old  Indian  who'd  tell  us  where  Manoa 
is.  That's  the  golden  city,  all  built  of  gold.  And  all 
the  people  in  it  are  white — that's  the  funny  thing.  It's 
somewhere  in  South  America,  in  the  forests  where  the 
humming-birds  are.  And  there's  supposed  to  be  a  spell 
on  it,  so  that  if  you  go  to  look  for  it,  you  hear  all  beautiful 
singing,  and  women  come  out  of  the  forest  and  tell  you 
they'll  show  you  the  way.  And  they  bring  you  beautiful 
red  and  green  apples,  and  if  you  bite  one  of  the  apples, 
you  drop  dead  ;  and  then  the  women  change  into  flaming 
dragons  and  eat  you  up.  But  there  is  one  way  through 
the  forest,  and  the  Indian  would  show  it  to  us,  'cos  we'd 
promise,  if  he  did,  that  we'd  give  him  his  freedom.  And 
we'd  creep  along  by  moonlight,  through  the  forest,  and 
great  blood-sucking  moths  would  come  down.  And 
when  they  bite  you,  you  don't  feel  it,  'cos  they  fan  you 
with  their  wings,  so  they  suck  all  your  blood  out  if  you're 
not  careful.  And  we'd  get  into  Manoa,  the  golden  city, 
and  see  El  Dorado.  That  means  '  the  gilded,'  'cos  the 
King  of  Manoa  is  covered  with  gold.  They  gum  him,  I 
suppose,  all  over,  and  then  roll  him  in  gold-dust.  It's 
just  like  tarring  and  feathering,  only  done  with  gold-dust. 
And  he  gets  all  stuck  with  gold-dust.  He  isn't  allowed 
anything  else,  and  he  glistens  like  anything.  And  that's 
what  El  Dorado  is.  And  when  he  goes  about  in  the 
street,  everybody  falls  down  and  says  :  *  Great  El 
Dorado,  mercy  !'  No  one's  ever  got  to  Manoa  except 
some  Spaniards,  and  when  they  were  coming  back  they 
all  went  mad  from  thirst.  They  came  back  raving  about 
white  men  in  a  golden  city,  and  then  they  died  of  mad- 
ness,   yapping    like    dogs.     So,    of    course,    everybody 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

thought  it  was  madness.  Oh,  and  then  an  EngHshman 
got  there  ;  but  nobody  beUeved  what  he  said,  'cos  he 
was  only  a  common  sailor.  And  he  went  blind,  because 
of  the  moonlight  on  the  voyage  home,  'cos  that's  what 
sailors  do  go  if  they  sleep  in  the  moonlight ;  so  tiiat's 


"  '  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  tried  to  find  out  about  it.'  " 

what  you  really  mean  when  you  call  Lance  '  moony.' 
And  ever  after  that  he  used  to  go  about  telling  people 
that  he  knew  where  a  golden  city  was.  He  used  to  sing 
songs  about  it.  And  the  sailors  in  the  inns  gave  him 
pennies,  'cos  he'd  once  been  a  sailor.  Only,  when  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh  tried  to  find  out  about  it  from  him,  of 

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course  he  couldn't  show  him  the  way,  'cos  he  was 
blind. 

"  So  when  we  got  to  South  America,  we'd  leave  our 
ship  in  a  creek,  covered  with  palm-leaves,  so  that  the 
Spaniards  wouldn't  find  her.  And  then  the  Indian  would 
show  us  the  way,  and  we  would  by-and-by  come  to  Manoa, 
and  go  up  the  golden  streets,  with  a  trumpeter  blowing. 
And  when  we  talked  with  El  Dorado,  we  wouldn't  be 
like  the  Spaniards.  We  wouldn't  try  to  take  all  the 
gold.  We'd  say  that  we  came  from  the  English  King 
to  make  a  treaty,  so  then  England  and  Manoa  would 
always  be  friends.  And  if  any  enemies  came  to  fight 
England,  Manoa  would  send  an  army  to  help,  'cos  they're 
said  to  be  very  good  fighters.  They've  got  long  wooden 
swords  with  flint  edges,  which  can  cut  a  horse's  head  off. 
I  say,  mustn't  they  be  simply  swipers  to  cut  off  a  horse's 
head  ?  'Cos  it  isn't  like  beheading  people,  'cos  then  you 
have  a  block. 

"  And  when  we  got  back  to  England,  the  King  would 
forgive  us  being  pirates,  'cos  we'd  made  friends  with 
the  Manoans.  And  then  he'd  let  us  come  on  shore.  So 
then,  perhaps,  we'd  go  back  to  the  island  where  we'd 
marooned  the  people,  'cos  we  wouldn't  want  them  to  be 
always  marooned.  We'd  heave  to  off  the  shore,  and  fire 
a  gun,  and  they'd  come  out.  They'd  be  all  hairy,  like 
animals,  'cos  that's  how  people  go  when  they  haven't 
any  clothes — they  get  all  hairy.  I'll  tell  you  who's 
hairy — the  old  Colonel.  I  saw  him  at  cricket  once  over 
at  Upton  St.  Mary's.  He'd  got  his  sleeves  rolled  up,  and 
he  was  just  simply  hairy — simply  awfully  hairy  !  That 
was  because  he'd  been  in  India  so  long,  where  they  wear 

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hardly  any  clothes.  Of  course,  the  English  have  to  wear 
some,  'cos  they've  got  uniforms.  So  when  the  marooned 
people  came  out,  some  of  them  would  be  all  hairy,  and 
some  would  have  goat-skins,  like  Robinson  Crusoe. 
And  they'd  kneel  down  on  the  spit  and  beg  me  to  take 
them  home.  So  then  I'd  take  them  home.  And  a  very 
good  thing  to  have  for  marooned  people  is  Parmesan 
cheese,  *  a  kind  of  cheese  made  in  Italy — very  nutritious,' 


" '  I'd  give  the  maroons  some  sardines  !'  " 

'cos  that's  what  they  generally  ask  for.  And  I'd  have 
sardines  for  them,  for  sardines  are  jolly  good  things  for 
sailors  to  take  to  sea,  'cos  the  oil  preserves  them  ;  and 
besides,  they're  all  soldered  up,  so  that  they  can't  get 
air  into  them,  which  is  one  of  the  things  you  have  to 
look  out  for.  And  then  I'd  give  the  maroons  some 
sardines.  And  at  first  they  wouldn't  be  able  to  speak 
much,  'cos  all  maroons  forget  how  to  speak.  But, 
perhaps,  if  there  were  a  lot  of  maroons  together,  they 

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wouldn't  forget  so  much.  And  I  s'pose,  if  there  were 
many,  one'd  have  to  put  them  down  in  the  hold,  with  a 
gun  pointing  down,  'cos  if  you  didn't  they'd  very  likely 
seize  the  ship.  And  we'd  have  a  spy  down  in  the  hold, 
to  hear  if  they  made  a  plot  to  mutiny.  We'd  have  a  big 
barrel  there,  labelled  '  Rum,'  but  it  wouldn't  be  rum 
really  ;  it'd  be  a  spy's  hiding-place.  And  all  the  time 
they  were  planning  to  file  their  irons  and  fling  us  over- 
board, the  spy  would  be  making  notes  in  shorthand,  'cos 
that's  a  famous  dodge.  And  then,  when  all  was  ready. 
We'd  have  them  all  up,  and  say  :  '  So  this  is  a  nice  return 
for  all  our  kindness.'  But  we'd  forgive  them,  unless, 
perhaps,  we  made  them  draw  lots  which  should  suffer 
'  the  mercy  of  the  sea,'  or  perhaps  throw  dice  on  the 
capstan  ;  for  that  was  what  they  did  sometimes,  and  then 
the  man  who  drew  the  bad  lot — or  sometimes  it  was  a 
black  bean  out  of  a  bag — would  have  to  die,  unless  we 
forgave  him  just  at  the  end.  I  think  we  should  forgive 
him  just  at  the  end.  Or  if  we  didn't,  he  would  haunt 
us,  like  the  man  in  '  Tiger  Teach.' 

"  And  then,  by-and-by,  they'd  all  get  home  to  their 
villages  ;  but  they'd  be  so  hairy  that  no  one  would  know 
them,  and  they'd  have  been  away  from  home  twenty 
years,  and  all  their  people  would  be  dead,  except,  perhaps, 
one  or  two  very,  very  old  people,  who'd  just  remember 
them.  So  then  they'd  stay  at  home  for  a  time  ;  but  they 
wouldn't  like  it  there,  with  no  one  they  knew,  so  at  last 
they'd  write  to  each  other,  and  all  come  together  again. 
They'd  meet  at  some  sailors'  inn.  And  then,  when  they 
were  all  met,  thej^'d  say  they  wanted  to  go  to  sea  again. 
So   then  they'd  go   out   where  the   artillery  were,   and 

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capture  some  guns  and  pistols,  and  then  they'd  dig  a  big 
underground  passage  to  the  grocery  stores — some  great 
big  grocery  stores  where  the  ships  get  their  provisions. 
And  at  night,  when  everybody  was  asleep,  they'd  creep 
down  the  passage  with  dark  lanterns.  Of  course,  the 
grocer  would  have  to  be  an  enemy.  He'd  have  to  be 
in  a  plot  against  the  King,  and  they'd  have  found  it 
out  ..." 

"  Din-ner  !"  Mr.  Hampden  shouted.  "  Come  along. 
Rally  along  while  it's  hot." 

He  deftly  turned  the  contents  of  the  saucepan  into 
the  three  tin  dishes.  The  boys  sprang  up  with  a  cry. 
They  rolled  themselves  into  position  in  front  of  the  dishes. 
The  action  began  with  a  fierce  assault  all  along  the  line. 

"  The  secret  of  a  happy  camp,"  said  Mr.  Hampden 
after  dinner,  "  is  making  everybody  take  shares  in  the 
washing  up,  and  washing  up  within  twenty  minutes  of 
the  meal.  If  the  water  in  the  kettle's  hot  enough,  we'll 
wash  up  now.  One  of  us'U  wash,  another  rinse,  the 
third  dry.  *  So  shall  Charybdis  wear  a  grace.'  Come 
along  and  let's  get  it  over." 

They  got  it  over.  After  they  had  finished,  Mr.  Hamp- 
den told  them  to  fill  up  the  filter,  and  come  with  him  up 
the  hill  to  excavate.  He  produced  two  trowels  from  his 
baggage. 

"  What  are  we  going  to  excavate,  sir  ?  The  gateway 
of  this  little  cleft  ?" 

"No.  We'll  do  that  by-and-by,  after  supper.  I 
thought  we  might  climb  up  the  spur  and  open  one  or 
two  of  the  hut-hollows." 

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"Oh,  hooray !  hooray !  Come  along,  Mac.  What 
d'you  think  we  shall  find,  sir  ?" 

"  Oh,  hearthstones,  perhaps,  a  few  broken  bits  of  pots, 
and  perhaps  a  spindle- whorl." 

'*  And  arrow-heads  ?" 

"  Perhaps." 

"  Mac  !  Mac  !  Perhaps  there'll  be  arrow-heads.  If 
there  're  arrow-heads,  won't  it  be  simply  splitting  !  We 
could  fasten  them  on  to  garden  sticks,  and  then  we'd 
have, real  arrows." 

"  We  very  likely  shan't  find  arrow-heads,"  said  Mr. 
Hampden.  "  We  should  find  arrow-heads  in  the  place 
where  they  were  made,  or  in  graves.  They  were  often 
buried  with  their  owners.  Sometimes  you  can  pick  them 
up  on  bare  patches  of  the  hills,  just  as  they  were  dropped. 
There  must  be  thousands  scattered  about,  waiting  to  be 
found." 

"  And  spear-heads,  too,  sir  ?" 

"  No  ;  not  spear-heads  so  much.  They  are  bigger. 
They  are  noticed  more  if  they  lie  about  upon  the 
ground.  And  then  there  are  fewer  of  them.  A  man 
would  have,  perhaps,  only  one  spear,  but  a  quiverful 
of  arrows." 

They  climbed  up  the  side  of  the  spur  to  one  of  the  many 
little  ledges  on  which  primitive  man  had  built  his  huts. 
They  halted  on  one  of  the  ledges  in  a  little  open  space 
among  the  brambles.  The  place  had  once  been  over- 
grown with  the  immense  hill-nettles,  the  stalks  of  which 
are  so  prickly  with  spines  that  they  hurt  more  than  the 
leaves.  Something  had  killed  the  nettles.  They  were  all 
of  them  dead.    Their  dead  stalks  lay  in  disorder  over  one 

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of  the  hut  -  hollows.  They  were  whitish  and  brittle. 
Their  hairs  were  still  stiff  enough  to  prick  the  fingers. 

"  This  seems  a  good  big  hollow,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 
"  Let's  clear  away  the  nettles  from  it,  and  see  what  we 
can  see." 

When  they  had  cleared  away  the  nettles,  and  the 
coarse  grass  which  tangled  at  their  roots,  they  saw  that 
the  hollow  was  nearly  filled  with  blackened,  burnt  stones. 
All  the  stones  had  been  brought  from  some  distance. 
There  were  no  stones  like  them  to  be  found  on  the  hill. 
They  had  been  there  for  many  years.  They  had  settled 
into  each  other.  They  were  all  mossy,  with  a  yellowish, 
close-clinging  moss.  There  seemed  to  be  a  couple  of  feet 
of  stones. 

"  It's  a  stone-pit,  like  the  stone-pit  on  the  wall,"  said 
Mac. 

"  I  wonder  what  it  can  be,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 

"  Mightn't  it  be  a  fireplace  ?" 

"  It  doesn't  look  like  one.  Yet  the  stones  have  been 
burnt." 

"  Couldn't  it  be  a  big  sort  of  fireplace,  where  they 
roasted  wild  boars  whole  ?" 

"  Or  couldn't  it  be  a  sort  of  foundation-place,  and  then 
the  bed  on  top  of  it  ?" 

'*  I  give  it  up,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  It  might  be  a 
collection  of  the  stones  which  they  used  to  make  red-hot 
when  they  wanted  a  steam-bath  after  going  on  the  war- 
path. The  Red  Indians  did  that.  They  dug  a  little  hole, 
filled  it  with  water,  covered  it  up,  and  then  dropped  in 
red-hot  stones  to  make  a  steam.  Then  the  warrior  sat  in 
the  steam  till  he  was  clean.     It  was  a  kind  of  Turkish 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

bath.  Perhaps  this  was  something  of  that  kind.  We'll 
get  the  stones  out,  and  see  if  there's  anything  under- 
neath." 

After  half  an  hour  of  work  they  emptied  the  pit.  It 
was  about  two  feet  deep  by  four  and  a  half  feet  long. 
The  bottom  was  the  crumbly,  pale,  imburnt  earth  of  the 
hillside.  The  stones  were  light  from  being  burnt.  They 
averaged  about  a  pound  in  Weight.  Nearly  all  of  them 
showed  signs  of  having  been  in  the  fire.  Mr.  Hampden 
dug  down  into  the  earth  for  a  few  minutes,  but  there 
was  nothing  hidden  below  the  stones.  He  patted  back 
the  earth. 

"  No  good,"  he  said.  "  We'll  put  the  stones  back. 
Nothing  here.  Nothing  even  to  show  what  the  place 
was  meant  for." 

They  rolled  back  the  stones  with  a  good  will.  It  was 
hard  to  find  nothing,  but  they  had  had  good  fun  in  the 
hope.  They  broke  through  the  cover  to  another  ledge, 
where  one  of  the  hollows  was  deeper  than  most. 

"  This  we'll  try,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 

They  thrust  their  trowels  into  the  soft  earth.  Each 
trowelful,  when  thrown  up,  was  searched  by  one  of  the 
three. 

After  they  had  dug  for  twenty  minutes,  they  were 
rewarded.  Mac,  who  was  searcher  at  the  moment,  gave 
a  cry. 

**  Here,"  he  said—"  here's  something." 

The  two  diggers  turned  to  him  excitedly. 

"  It  isn't  much,"  said  Mac. 

He  rubbed  the  earth  from  it,  and  held  it  up.  It  was  a 
piece  of  pottery  measuring  about  three  inches  across.     It 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

was  scored  along  one  edge  with  a  herring-bone  pattern ; 
some  half-dozen  scorings  showed. 

"  I  suppose  this  is  a  bit  of  one  of  their  pots,  sir  V  he 
said. 

Mr.  Hampden  looked  at  it.  "  Yes,"  he  said  ;  '*  that  is 
a  bit  of  a  British  pot.  They  couldn't  make  very  good 
pots.  They  couldn't  make  their  kilns  hot  enough.  Still, 
this  probably  held  somebody's  dinner  once.  It  looks  like 
a  bit  of  the  rim.  The  scoring  of  the  pattern  is  done 
cleverly.  You  couldn't  draw  lines  in  wet  clay  so  straight 
as  those  lines,  could  you,  now  ?  Put  it  to  one  side,  Mac. 
We'll  see  what  else  we  can  find." 

Half  an  hour  of  digging  brought  them  to  what  had 
been  the  floor  of  the  hollow  when  it  was  inhabited.  There 
was  a  fire-blackened  stone  at  the  northern  end  of  the 
hollow.  On  it  and  under  it  were  a  few  pieces  of  what 
looked  like  charcoal.  At  the  sides  of  the  pit  were  two 
or  three  fragments  of  the  same  stuff.  The  discoverer 
looked  at  them  curiously. 

"  The  fireplace,  and  the  remains  of  the  fire,"  said 
Robin.  **  I  wonder  what  they  had  for  dinner  the  last 
time  they  had  dinner  here." 

"  I  wonder.  I  shouldn't  think  they  had  much.  I 
should  think  it  was  a  bachelor's  place.  It's  simply  a  tiny 
fireplace,"  said  Mac.  "  And  a  jolly  untidy  bachelor,  I 
should  say.  He  chucked  away  the  charcoal  to  the 
side." 

"  No  ;  I  think  the  stuff  at  the  side  must  be  all  that's 
left  of  the  wattle.  It's  the  last  of  the  wattling.  You 
know  how  they  harden  the  ends  of  hop-poles  in  the  fire, 
so  that  they  shan't  decay  in  the  ground  ?     They  did  the 

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A    Book  of  Discoveries 

same  with  the  ends  of  the  watthng.     This  stuff  here  has 
once  been  sharpened." 

"  What  would  it  be  sharpened  with  ?" 

"  A  flint  axe.  They're  very  sharp  and  very  heavy. 
Would  you  like  to  take  these  things  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir — yes." 

*'  There  doesn't  seem  to  be  anything  else."  Robin 
picked  up  a  bracken-stalk  and  probed  with  it  here  and 
there  idly.  "  Here's  this,  sir,"  he  said,  after  rubbing 
among  the  blacks  under  the  hearthstone.  He  held  up  a 
thin  slip  of  bone  in  which  an  eyehole  had  been  drilled. 
"  It  looks  like  a  kind  of  bone  needle.  Only  the  point's 
gone." 

That  was  their  last  find.  The  last  inhabitants  of  the 
hut  had  left  very  little  behind  them  when  they  "  moved 
house."  The  boys  put  their  treasures  very  carefully 
together.  They  scooped  back  the  earth  into  the  hollow, 
wondering  how  long  it  had  taken  to  accumulate  there  to 
the  depth  of  eighteen  inches  above  the  floor.  Both  boys 
were  hot,  muddy,  and  cramped  from  stooping,  before  the 
surface  had  been  patted  down.  Mr.  Hampden  was  anxious 
lest  they  should  make  themselves  too  tired. 

"  What  shall  we  do  ?"  he  asked.  "  Would  you  like  to 
open  another,  or  shall  we  rest  now  ?" 

"  Oh,  open  another  —  let's  open  another,"  the  boys 
cried.  "  But  let's  go  up  on  the  top,  'cos  I  expect  the 
chiefs  lived  on  the  top.  We  might  come  to  a  chief's 
house  up  at  the  tipty-top." 

"  It  would  be  a  great  deal  better,"  said  Mr.  Hampden, 
"  if  we  could  find  their  rubbish-heap.  If  We  found  that, 
we  might  find  all  sorts  of  things." 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  What  sorts  of  things,  sir  ?" 

"  Oh,  nice  old  bones  cracked  for  the  marrow,  and  arrow- 
heads which  weren't  quite  a  success,  and  flint  chippings 
of  all  kinds,  some  of  them  rather  good  ones,  and  wild 
boars'  tusks,  and  broken  pots — all  the  things  you'd 
expect  in  a  dust-heap." 

"  Where  would  the  dust-heap  be,  sir  ?" 

**  Somewhere  down  the  hill.  I  don't  see  any  mound  or 
ridge  which  could  be  one." 

"  Had  they  always  one,  sir  ?" 

"  Yes,  probably.  Primitive  villages  are  generally  neat 
in  a  dirty  kind  of  way,  if  you  understand  what  I  mean. 
We'll  look  for  it." 

They  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  spur.  At  the  very  top, 
on  what  might  be  called  the  head  of  the  couchant  lion  of 
the  spur,  were  three  or  four  small  hollows  surrounding 
one  very  large  one. 

"  We'll  try  this  big  one,  shall  we  ?"  Mr.  Hampden 
asked.  *'  It'll  take  us  some  time  to  do."  He  probed  the 
ground  with  the  point  of  the  trowel.  "  This'U  be  an 
easy  one  to  dig,"  he  said.  "  It's  laid  on  the  bare  rock 
as  far  as  I  can  judge.  We'll  strip  it  off  from  the  south 
end." 

As  he  said,  it  was  an  easy  one  to  dig.  The  earth  made 
a  very  light,  thin  cover  to  the  rock  of  the  hill.  The  rock 
was  of  that  very  old,  rotten  kind  which  easily  breaks  and 
splits.  It  had  been  broken  up  to  a  rude  level  by  the  man 
who  had  once  made  his  home  there.  Bits  of  rock  de- 
ceived the  boys  many  times  as  they  laid  the  surface  bare. 
They  found  nothing  but  a  few  small  bits  of  charcoal. 
Perhaps  that  exposed  site  had  been  pillaged  long  before. 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

There  was  nothing  left  for  the  boys  to  treasure.  They 
went  over  the  pile  of  earth  a  second  time,  to  make  sure 
that  nothing  had  been  missed.  They  found  nothing. 
The  bits  of  thin,  spht  stone  were  not  bits  of  pottery  ;  the 
occasional  tiny  clods  of  earth  were  not  spindle- whorls. 

*'  Drawn  blank,"  said  Mac,  as  he  began  to  scoop  back 
the  earth. 

He  was  not  well  inclined  to  dig  up  any  more  hut- 
hollows.  He  got  up  and  stretched  himself  while  Robin 
did  the  work. 


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Chapter  XVII 


OW,  how  would  it  be,"  said  Mr. 
Hampden,  "  if  we  stayed  here  for 
a  week  or  so  and  made  a  book 
about  Brown  Willy  ?  We  could 
camp  in  the  cleft  there  for  as  long 
as  the  weather's  fine.  We  could 
make  a  map  of  the  camp,  showing 
all  the  hut-hollows,  and  if  we  were 
smart  we  could  examine  most  of 
the  hut -hollows  to  find  out  what  has  been  left  here. 
We  could  make  the  map  big  enough  to  take  in  all  this 
spur,  and  the  water-pans  below  it.  We  could  put  in  the 
Quaking  Bog,  and  little  queer  places  like  the  cleft  where 
we  are  camping.  Then,  when  we  had  done  the  camp  and 
its  surroundings,  we  might  try  to  strike  the  lines  of  the 
roads  leading  to  it,  and  then  in  time  follow  them  all  up, 
and  see  where  they  came  to,  what  forts  or  towns,  and  the 
rest  of  it.     D'you  think  you  would  like  that  ?" 

The  boys  were  delighted  with  the  thought  of  staying 
for  a  week  on  Brown  Willy,  but  how  about  leave,  and 
was  not  map-making  rather  a  swot  ?  Mr.  Hampden 
knew  what  was  passing  in  their  minds. 

"  I'll  go  over  to  get  you  leave,"  he  said.  "  I've  left 
my  bicycle   at  the   Saunders'   cottage   down    the    road 

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A    Book    of    Discoveries 

there.  I'll  ride  over  to-morrow  morning.  We  shan't 
make  a  big  map — only  a  little  one  for  ourselves  ;  and  then 
we'll  put  in  all  the  ancient  British  things  we  learn,  so  as 
to  make  a  little  book.  Then  we'll  put  in  the  natural 
history  of  the  place,  the  notes  of  the  birds,  and  where  to 
look  for  the  nests  of  field-mice  and  humble-bees.  What 
do  you  say  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Robin  ;  "  and  I  know  what  would  be 
fun  to  do.     We  could  make  a  map  of  the  town  here,  as 
well  as  We  can,  and  then  I  know  what  we  could  do.     We 
could  make  a  little  sort  of  a  museum-place  to  put  all  the 
things   we   find   in.     We   could  have   drawers,   like   the 
drawers  in  butterfly-cabinets,  and  write  out  neat  little 
labels  for  everything.     And  then  we  could  get  some  clay. 
There's  a  place  down  at  the  bottom  of  the  garden  where 
there's  some  simply  splendid  clay,  'cos  I  know,  'cos  we 
had  an  exhibition  once  of  birds '-nests  and  things  which 
we  made  out  of  the  clay.     You  can  make  simply  any- 
thing out  of  the  clay,  'cos  it's  just  like  plasticine  ;  and  if 
you  stick  it  in  the  fire,  I  believe  we  could  make  china 
out  of  it.     It's  simply  splendid  clay.     And  I  know  what 
we  could  do.     We  could  make  a  sort  of  a  big  model  hill. 
Of  course,  it  wouldn't  do  to  make  it  too  big,  'cos    it'd 
take  too  much  clay  ;  but  we  could  make  it  pretty  big. 
Of  course,  it  would  be  much  more  difficult  if  we  made  it 
small ;  but  I  was  thinking  we  could  make  the  model  hill, 
and  then  put  in  little  tiny  models  of  the  huts  as  they 
really  were.     I  saw  a  little  model  once.     You  remember, 
Mac,  the  Roman  villa  with  real  Romans  ?      It's  in  the 
museum  at  Drowcester,   next  door  to  the  old   Roman 
baths.     Simply  rotten  baths.      The  plunge  is  only  about 

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A    Book    of    Discoveries 

eight  feet  long.  But  I  b'lieve  the  Romans  were  a  lot 
smaller  than  real  people,  *cos  they  had  to  be,  or  they 
wouldn't  have  got  through  their  doors.  And  the  models 
are  ripping,  and  we  could  make  little  huts  out  of  card- 
board— little  tiny- weeny  huts.  And  we  could  get  little 
farthing  jointed  dolls  to  be  the  Britons.  And  I  know 
what  we  could  use  for  the  water-pans — glass.  Glass 
makes  simply  ripping  water.  We  could  get  a  bit  of  glass 
from  Dawks,  the  builder.  He's  got  a  whole  heap  of  glass, 
and  he  cuts  it  with  a  real  diamond  stuck  on  to  a  handle. 
But  another  way  of  cutting  it  is  to  soak  a  bit  of  string  in 
vinegar.  Of  course,  if  you  have  sulphuric  acid,  you  can 
do  it  with  that.  I  expect  sulphuric  acid's  really  best, 
'cos  it's  jolly  strong  stuff.  When  you  kill  anybody,  it's 
always  a  good  thing  to  put  him  into  sulphuric  acid,  if  you 
have  enough,  'cos  then  that  destroys  him,  and  then  you 
don't  get  caught.  When  you're  cutting  glass,  you  just 
tie  the  string  round  the  glass  after  soaking  it  in  vinegar 
or  sulphuric  acid,  and  then  you  can  cut  it  where  the 
string  touches.  You  have  to  be  awfully  careful  with 
sulphuric  acid.  They  call  it  oil  of  vitriol.  In  Paris  they 
throw  it  at  each  other.  They've  got  some  people  in  Paris 
called  Apaches.  They  chuck  vitriol  into  people's  eyes, 
and  then  it  blinds  you.  And  it's  awfully  rummy  about 
vitriol.  It's  quite  cold — at  least,  it  feels  cold  when  you 
hold  the  bottle,  but  directly  you  touch  it  it  simply  burns 
like  billio.  And  if  you  put  it  into  cold  water  it  makes  it 
all  hot.  So  if  we  got  a  bit  of  glass  from  Dawks,  the 
builder — Dawks  is  rather  an  old  ass,  but  he's  an  awfully 
good  builder.  He  built  the  Big  Burn  Barn,  and  he's 
awfully  good  at  knuckle-bones.     I  had  him  a  game  once. 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

You  wouldn't  think  him  at  all  good  to  look  at.  He  is, 
though.  I  wonder  if  he's  any  good  at  cricket  ?  I 
shouldn't  think  he  is,  should  you,  Mac  ?  So  we  could 
easy  get  a  bit  of  glass  from  Dawks,  'cos  Dawks  is  simply 
awfully  decent  when  you  get  to  know  him.  *  Marnin', 
measter.  Bist  gwine  down  the  river,  like  ?  When  you 
be  in  the  boat,  you'll  have  t'  anchor  her  up,  like.  Some 
be  Red  Admirals,  and  some  be  on'y  Blue  Admirals.' 
He's  an  awful  old  governor,  old  Dawks,  the  way  he 
speaks.  So  then  we  could  put  in  the  glass,  and  it  would 
look  just  like  water,  and  then  up  at  the  top  of  all  we 
would  have  a  little  Briton  with  a  spear.  We  could  make 
a  spear  out  of  a  match-stick,  and  then  put  in  a  bit  of 
fiattened-out  wire  or  something  to  do  for  the  spear-head. 
He  would  do  for  the  look-out." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mac,  who  had  waited  rather  a  long  time 
for  a  chance  to  speak  ;  "  and  we  could  have  little  fires. 
You  get  chopped  up  match-sticks  and  paint  them  red 
for  fire,  and  then  put  in  cotton- wool  for  the  smoke.  And 
I  know  what  we  could  do  for  their  clothes." 

"  Some  of  our  skins,"  said  Robin.  "  We've  got  a  lot 
of  skins.  We  got  threepence  a  dozen  for  clearing  the 
moles  out  of  the  mill-stream  field.  We  got  twenty-one 
moles.  We  got  them  with  springs,  just  like  real  mole- 
catchers.  Moles  are  very  easy  beasts  to  strangle.  They 
die  at  once  if  you  give  them  a  squeeze.  So  we  skinned 
them,  and  then  we  caught  a  lot  of  field-mice  in  the  kitchen- 
garden.  They're  awfully  pretty  little  things.  It  seems 
a  shame  to  kill  them,  only  they  do  such  harm  in  a  garden. 
They  dug  up  every  pea  we  planted — every  single  pea — 
so  we  had  to  catch  them.     We've  got  lots  of  skins  which 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

we  could  cut  up  to  make  dresses  for  the  Britons,  and  we 
could  have  some  of  the  wooden  animals  out  of  that  toy 
farm  we  used  to  have  when  we  were  boys.  They  would 
do  for  the  Britons'  herds.  We  could  pretend  they  had 
their  herds  penned  up  somewhere  in  the  village,  or  we 
might  make  the  cleft  big  enough  in  the  model  to  hold 
the  cattle." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  "  we'll  make  a  plan 
of  the  village,  and  then,  when  we  go  back,  we'll  make 
that  model  of  it.  You'll  find  it  very  good  fun,  but  very 
finicky  and  worrying  work  making  little  model  huts. 
But  anything  which  makes  the  fingers  deft  is  very  good 
indeed  for  the  brain,  so  I  shall  offer  a  prize  for  the  best 
hut-maker." 

**  But  what  were  the  huts  like,  sir  ?" 

"  Well,  you've  seen  the  huts  which  the  gipsies  use  on 
Crookidean  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

'*  Well,  you  make  the  huts  in  something  the  same  way 
— a  rounded  sort  of  beehive  arrangement.  We'll  find  all 
the  curios  we  can  among  these  hut-hollows.  When  we  go 
back,  we'll  arrange  them  in  some  sort  of  a  cabinet.  When 
do  you  go  back  to  school  ?" 

"  Eighteenth  of  September,  sir." 

**  Well,  look  here  :  Waters  Orton's  bazaar  in  aid  of  the 
cricket  club  will  be  on  the  eleventh  of  September — that 
gives  us  a  good  four  Weeks.  Now,  suppose  we  make  up 
our  minds  to  have  an  ancient  Briton  stall  at  the  bazaar  ? 
We'll  exhibit  whatever  we  find  here,  and  we'll  exhibit 
our  model  of  the  village.  We'll  charge  a  penny  a  look, 
if  you  like." 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"No,  twopence,  sir — twopence.  Nothing's  a  penny  at 
a  bazaar." 

**  Very  well,  then — twopence.  And  we'll  set  to  work 
to  make  a  very  good  map  of  the  hill.  I'd  better  do  that. 
I'm  rather  a  good  hand  at  a  map.  I'll  do  the  map,  and 
I'll  have  a  picture  of  the  Romans  storming  it,  if  you  like, 
in  one  of  the  corners." 

"  Yes,  sir — yes.     I  say,  won't  that  be  splendid  ?" 

**  And  then  we'll  try  to  write  a  little  book  about  what 
we  know  of  the  ancient  Britons  and  about  what  it  feels 
like  living  on  Brown  Willy,  for  I  expect  we're  the  only 
people  alive  who  have  tried  to  live  in  this  old  place. 
We'll  print  what  we  write  on  my  little  printing-press. 
We'll  make  little  books  of  it,  and  offer  them  for  sale  at 
.sixpence  each." 

This  set  the  boys  careering  round  with  leaps  of  joy. 
To  leap  aloft  and  whack  the  earth  with  a  trowel  at  each 
descent  helps  to  express  delight.  The  boys  saw  a  ravish- 
ing prospect  opening  down  the  future  of  the  holidays. 

"  Don't  go  quite  wild  about  it,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 
"  We'll  go  down  to  the  camp  now  to  rest  for  a  time. 
We'll  have  stories  about  pirates  for  a  time.  Do  you  like 
pirates  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir — yes.     Tell  us  about  Captain  Flint,  sir." 

"  Flint  ?"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  Oh  yes  ;  Captain 
Flint,  to  be  sure.  I  don't  know  that  anything  much  is 
known  of  Flint,  by  thunder  !  I  suppose  he  lived  in  a 
place  called  New  Orleans.  I  expect  it  was  a  little  old 
ramshackle  town  then,  with  one  street  of  ramshackle 
houses,  with  the  shutters  all  off  them.  And  just  across 
the  street  was  a  great  row  of  ships  moored  to  the  shore 

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Are  you  Flint?'" 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

with  their  jib  booms  overhanging  the  road,  so  that  you 
could  walk  along  and  touch  the  figure-heads.  And  Flint 
lived  in  that  street  in  the  Adventure  Inn,  when  he  was 
at  home  from  a  cruise.  And  one  day,  when  he  was 
sitting  in  the  Adventure  Inn  drinking  rum,  there  came  a 
knock  at  the  door,  and  in  came  a  boy  dressed  like  a  ship's 
boy,  but  all  in  rags,  and  he  was  wounded  and  dying. 
He  just  leaned  across  the  table  and  held  out  a  little 
silver  casket. 

**  *  Are  you  Flint  ?'  he  said. 

"  '  Yes,'  said  Flint  ;  '  I  am,  by  thunder  !' 

"  *  D'you  remember  Constanza  ?'  said  the  boy.  '  She 
told  me  to  give  you  this.' 

"  Now,  years  before,  long  before  Flint  became  a  pirate, 
he  had  been  in  love  with  Constanza  ;  but  she  wouldn't 
marry  him,  because  she  thought  he  was  rather  a  bad  lot. 
He  gave  her  a  casket  with  his  picture  inside  it  before  he 
went  away  to  sea,  after  she  had  refused  him.  He  told 
her  that  if  she  was  ever  in  danger  or  in  need  of  him  he 
would  come  to  her  if  she  sent  him  the  casket.  Now  here 
was  the  casket,  and  Constanza  wanted  him. 

"  '  Where  is  she  ?'  he  said. 

"  Put  the  boy  had  been  wounded  by  Red  Indians  on 
his  way  across  the  prairie.  He  just  held  out  a  hand  and 
pointed,  and  then  he  drew  out  an  arrow-head  from  his 
side  and  drew  a  map  with  his  blood  on  the  table,  and  just 
as  he  was  finishing  the  map  he  stood  up  and  gave  a  great 
shout. 

"  '  Three  days  !'  he  shouted—*  three  days  !' 

"  And  then  he  dropped  down  dead.  But  here  we  are 
at  the  camp.     I  must  tell  you  the  rest  some  other  time." 

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A    Book    of    Discoveries 

Towards  supper-time  Mr.  Hampden  set  the  boys  to 
work.  He  told  off  Mac  to  bring  in  as  much  firewood  as 
he  could  find. 

"  Bring  a  great  deal,"  he  said,  ''  for  we're  going  to  have 
night-watches,  and  you  may  be  cold.  You  may  want  to 
make  yourself  cocoa  in  the  night." 

Robin  was  set  to  fetch  water  from  the  spring,  pass  it 
through  the  filter,  boil  it  in  the  kettle  when  filtered,  and 
then  pour  it  into  a  bucket.  He  was  told  to  keep  a  good 
fire  going.  Mr.  Hampden  went  off  by  himself  to  set 
snares  for  rabbits.  He  knew  that  by  six  o'clock  the 
rabbits  would  be  coming  out  of  the  cover  to  feed  on  the 
grass  of  the  lower  slopes.  He  set  two  wires  in  menses 
leading  through  the  hedge.  When  he  had  done  this,  he 
Wondered  what  relish  Nature  had  to  offer  to  the  wild 
man.  There  were  pig-nuts.  But  pig-nuts  are  an  earthy 
fruit,  not  very  pleasant  if  the  boy  who  eats  them  has 
not  the  excitement  of  finding  them.  Blackberries  were 
hardly  ripe  yet.  There  were  a  very  few  late  wild-straw- 
berries. The  nuts  were  going  to  be  very  plentiful,  but 
they  Were  not  yet  ripe.  He  had  read  in  a  book  of  voyages 
that  the  roots  of  English  burdock  could  be  eaten  boiled. 
There  were  many  big  burdocks  growing  in  the  coarse 
ground  near  the  bog.  Their  roots  would  be  as  big  as 
carrots,  he  thought.  He  did  not  like  to  pick  them, 
because  he  was  not  quite  sure  that  what  he  called  burdock 
was  called  burdock  in  the  seventeenth  century.  The 
names  of  plants  change.  The  marigolds  of  to-day  are 
not  the  marigolds  of  Shakespeare's  time.  He  distrusted 
a  weed  on  principle.  A  thing  which  grows  easily  in  this 
climate  is  not  likely  to  be  of  much  use  as  a  food  for  man. 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

In  the  end  he  gave  up  the  thought  of  vegetables.  As  the 
rabbits  scorned  his  wires,  he  had  also  to  give  up  the 
thought  of  rabbit.  The  camp  supper  consisted  of  sar- 
dines, bread  and  butter,  Dutch  cheese,  and  cocoa.  After 
the  wash-up,  the  boys  had  great  fun  in  making  them- 
selves spears  to  be  their  weapons  during  the  night-watches. 
Each  cut  a  long  straight  ash-pole  from  the  hedge,  shar- 
pened the  end,  and  then  hardened  the  point  in  the  fire. 
When  they  had  done  this,  they  passed  a  happy  half -hour 
in  digging  in  the  ground  to  find  the  ends  of  the  old  pali- 
sades with  which  primitive  man  had  fenced  his  cattle- 
pens.  They  found  three  bits  of  shrivelled  wood  standing 
in  the  line  that  the  palisade  must  once  have  taken. 
They  laid  the  treasure  reverently  to  one  side,  with  the 
spoils  which  they  had  dug  up  during  the  afternoon. 
Mr.  Hampden  then  called  up  the  boys  to  make  the  round 
of  the  camp.  It  was  seven  o'clock  ;  it  was  drawing  near 
to  sunset.  Mr.  Hampden  wanted  to  make  all  secure  for 
the  night.  They  had  got  together  a  good  load  of  Wood  ; 
they  would  be  able  to  keep  the  fire  going  all  through  the 
night.  Mr.  Hampden  looked  at  the  Water-supply,  and 
then  discussed  with  the  boys  how  they  should  manage 
the  night-watches. 


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Chapter  XVIII 


AILORS  set  their  first  watch  at 
eight  o'clock  at  night,"  he  said. 
''  The  first  watch  lasts  till  mid- 
night ;  then  there  is  the  middle 
watch,  which  lasts  from  midnight 
till  four  o'clock  ;  then  comes  the 
morning  watch,  which  lasts  from 
four  till  eight.  The  first  watch  is 
the  easiest  to  keep,  the  middle 
watch  the  hardest,  and  the  morning  the  pleasantest. 
But  four  hours  is  rather  a  long  time  for  you  boys  to 
watch.  It's  light  soon  after  half-past  three.  There  is 
no  need  for  us  to  keep  watch  at  all.  But  I  suppose  you'd 
like  the  fun  of  the  thing.  Suppose  you  each  stand  an 
hour  of  the  middle  watch;  from  twelve  to  one,  and  from 
one  to  two  ?  I  shan't  turn  in  much  before  midnight.  I 
want  to  be  in  the  Woods  at  night.  I  am  trying  to  find 
out  if  the  hooting  of  the  owls  fascinates  the  wood-mice. 
I  can't  help  thinking  it  does.  Suppose  you  boys  turn  in 
at  eight,  and  then  I'll  call  one  of  you  at  midnight.  How 
Would  that  suit  you  ?" 

It  suited  the  boys  very  well,  all  but  that  piece  about 
going  to  bed  at  eight  o'clock.  The  hill  air  had  made  them 
very  fresh.     In  spite  of  the  hard  work,  they  were  not 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

inclined  towards  bed.  They,  too,  wanted  to  wander  in 
the  woods  after  dark,  and  they  determined  secretly  that 
they  would  stand  the  whole  middle  watch  like  real  good 
grown-up  sentries.  None  of  your  one  hours  for  two 
ancient  Britons,  who  were  going  to  learn  how  to  make 
woad  neckties.     They  would  just  show  Mr.  Hampden. 

"  And  please,  sir,  couldn't  we  come  to  find  out  about 
the  wood-mice  ?  'Cos  we  were  in  the  Rectory  Wood 
the  other  night  at  about  half -past  eight.  We'd  been 
having  supper  at  the  Rectory,  and  we  were  coming  home 
through  the  wood,  and  the  Rectory  owl  was  making  that 
chacking  noise.  He  was  chacking  like  anything.  He 
didn't  seem  to  be  flying  about,  but  just  chacking.  And 
the  wood  was  just  alive  with  wood-mice.  They  were 
everywhere.  There  must  have  been  fifty  or  a  hundred. 
They  were  darting  everywhere." 

"  It's  very  curious,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  "  that  the 
owl  should  be  so  noisy  when  he  goes  hunting.  Most 
creatures  keep  quiet.  Come  on,  now.  We'll  get  the 
beds  made  up,  and  put  the  cover  on  the  tent." 

When  this  had  been  done,  he  told  the  boys  to  put  a 
kettle,  a  cup  or  two,  the  biscuit-tin,  and  the  cocoa  ready 
to  hand  near  the  fire,  so  that  a  night-guard  who  felt  cold 
might  have  refreshment  during  the  night.  It  struck  a 
little  cold  after  the  sun  had  set.  The  boys  were  glad  of 
their  sweaters.  They  drew  near  to  the  camp-fire,  which 
burned  up  brightly  in  the  dusk.  Mr.  Hampden  had 
rolled  up  a  few  logs  of  wood  for  seats.  They  sat  round 
the  blaze,  while  Mr.  Hampden  finished  his  tale  of  Flint 
and  Constanza.  When  the  story  was  finished  they  went 
into  the  wood,  but  the  owls  had  disappeared  by  then. 

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A    Book    of    Discoveries 

Whatever  owls  there  were  were  hunting  far  away  in  the 
valley.  Their  faint  hooings  sounded  from  far  away  now 
and    then.     None    came    near    Brown    Willy.     At    nine 


"  They  sat  round  the  blaze." 
o'clock  the  party  returned  to   camp.     The  boys   were 
ready  to  turn  in. 

"  Turn  in,  then,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  "  and  I  shall  call 
you  at  midnight.  The  word  will  be  *  Keep  awake.' 
Mind  you  alarm  the  camp  if  anybody  fails  to  give  the 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

word.  I've  stuck  a  bit  of  candle  in  the  tin  there.  You 
can  hght  it  while  you  undress.  You  need  only  take  your 
boots  and  coats  off.     And  now,  good-night." 

In  the  snug  hut  the  boys  felt  the  delight  of  camping 
more  keenly  than  they  had  ever  felt  it.  They  sat  on 
their  soft  heath  beds  while  they  pulled  off  their  boots. 
They  rolled  their  coats  and  waterproofs  into  neat  pillows, 
wrapped  themselves  in  their  blankets,  and  then  sat  up, 
propped  on  their  elbows,  to  look  out  into  the  night 
through  the  hut-door.  They  could  see  a  few  stars  over 
the  branches  of  the  wood.  They  saw  the  glow  of  the 
fire.  A  little  spirt  of  fire  leaped  from  an  ember.  It 
made  many  queer  shadows  flicker  out  from  the  camp 
gear  arranged  before  it.  The  shadows  gave  the  boys  the 
feeling  that  they  were  really  ancient  Britons,  not  modern 
boys  at  all.  Surely,  long  ago,  but  still  some  time  or 
another,  they  had  lain  in  such  a  hut,  among  the  huts  of 
the  tribe,  watching  the  flickering  of  the  camp-fires.  They 
seemed  to  remember  all  sorts  of  things  which  they  had 
long  forgotten.  They  found  themselves  listening  for 
noises  ;  they  felt  that  their  spears  were  near  at  hand. 

"  I  know  what  I  shall  try  to  do,"  said  Robin,  "  before 
that  bazaar  comes  off.  I  shall  try  to  boil  up  a  lot  of 
woad,  and  then,  when  I  get  the  blue  colour,  I'll  paint  a 
doll  with  it,  'cos  that  would  be  a  curiosity,  'cos  I  don't 
believe  anybody  really  knows  what  woad  is  like.  And 
another  thing  we  might  try,  which  would  be  rather  fun. 
We'll  get  all  sorts  of  plants  and  things,  and  see  if  we  can 
get  dyes  like  the  dyes  the  Britons  had.  You  get  gorse- 
blossom  and  lichen,  and  then  you  boil  them  up  or  some- 
thing.    We'll  easy  find  out,  and  then  we'll  dye  handker- 

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A    Book    of  Discoveries 

chiefs  green  and  yellow  and  blue.  We  could  sell  them  at 
the  bazaar/' 

"  Yes,"  said  Mac,  "  and  how'd  it  be  if  we  tried  to  make 
some  poisons  ?" 

"  I  don't  think  we'd  better  do  that,"  said  Robin,  "  'cos 
you  might  get  some  into  a  crack,  and  then  you  swell  up 
and  turn  all  blue.  Poisons  are  awful  things.  But  we 
might  try  to  find  out  that  thing  (it  was  about  as  big  as 
a  nut)  which  the  Britons  had.  It  kept  them  from  feeling 
cold  or  hungry  or  thirsty." 

"  Yes  ;  that  would  be  something  like,"  said  Mac. 

"  I  think  we'll  go  to  sleep  now,"  said  Robin. 

"  I  vote  we  do.     It's  jolly  comfortable  on  this  heath." 

"  Yes.     Are  you  warm  enough  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  plenty.     Good-night." 

''  Good-night." 

They  felt  that  they  had  only  slept  about  ten  minutes 
when  Mr.  Hampden  woke  them  by  lighting  the  candle. 

"  Now,  midnight,"  he  called.  "  Come  on.  Are  you 
going  to  stand  your  watch  ?" 

They  rolled  over  crossly,  and  propped  themselves  up 
on  their  elbows.  A  night-watch  seemed  a  much  less 
delightful  thing  when  it  happened  like  this. 

*'  Out  you  come,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  If  you're  not 
out  in  five  minutes,  when  I  come  back,  cold  pig." 

They  turned  out  as  soon  as  he  had  gone.  They  blinked 
at  each  other  as  they  pulled  on  their  boots.  As  they  sat 
up  on  their  beds,  waiting  for  they  knew  not  what,  they 
almost  fell  asleep  again.  Mr.  Hampden  called  to  them 
to  bring  their  waterproofs  and  come  out  into  the  open. 
They  came  out,  trailing  their  spears.     They  put  on  their 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

waterproofs,  not  quite  knowing  what  they  were  doing. 
It  struck  very  fresh  out  there  in  the  night.  The  stars 
were  bright.  All  the  sky  was  bright  with  a  dust  of  stars. 
The  boys  blinked  at  the  stars,  then  noticed  the  camp- 
fire  still  ruddy,  then  stared  into  the  night,  not  yet  pro- 
perly awake. 

"  What's  the  word  ?"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 

"  Keep  awake,"  said  Robin. 

"  Well,  mind  you  do,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  ''  You 
go  up  on  to  the  spur  there  and  look  out  for  the 
enemy." 

The  boys  saluted  silently,  and  stumbled  up  the  spur 
together. 

Up  on  the  spur,  after  the  first  half-hour  had  passed, 
they  found  themselves  wide  awake.  They  enjoyed  it ;  it 
was  something  so  new.  They  had  never  been  out  in  the 
wild  at  night  before.  It  was  not  so  awesome  as  they  had 
expected.  They  could  see  the  outlines  of  things  pretty 
clearly.  Brown  Willy  was  black  to  one  side  ;  the  woods 
were  black  below.  They  felt  that  in  a  little  time  they 
would  be  able  to  train  their  eyes  to  see  things  in  the 
night,  as  the  cats  see  them.  The  wind  had  freshened. 
They  were  glad  of  their  waterproofs.  They  faced  the 
wind,  letting  it  blow  them  wide  awake.  Presently,  when 
the  mood  took  them,  they  went  down  to  the  camp-fire, 
heaped  on  more  wood,  made  cocoa,  and  then  sat  upon 
logs  drinking  it,  with  an  open  biscuit -tin  between 
them. 

"  We'll  have  jolly  fine  fun  making  that  model,"  said 
Robin. 

"  It'll  be  rather  a  swot,"  said  Mac. 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

.    "Mr.  Hampden  said  he'd  pay  us  for  all  the  work  we 
do  upon  it." 

They  talked  in  low  voices,  for  Mr.  Hampden  had  told 
them  that  sailors  on  watch  always  keep  very  quiet,  lest 
they  should  wake  the  sleepers.  They  did  not  want  to 
wake  Mr.  Hampden,  who,  as  they  supposed,  had  turned 
in  for  the  night.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Mr.  Hampden  was 
a  night-bird  with  a  taste  for  roving  in  the  dark.  He  had 
gone  down  into  the  wood  again  to  watch  a  fox's  earth. 

"  If  we  were  to  go  ahead  at  it,"  Robin  continued, 
"  we'd  perhaps  get  half  a  sovereign,  and  we  could  save 
up  our  pocket-money  and  buy  one  of  those  long  brass 
cannon.  They  cost  about  ten  shillings.  And  we  could 
get  a  tin  of  powder  and  fire  it  off.  We  could  put  the  old 
tin  gunboat  Uncle  Jarvis  gave  us  in  the  pond  in  the 
orchard — she  was  never  any  good — and  then  we  could 
blaze  away  at  her  till  we  sank  her.  And  then  perhaps 
we  could  hike  her  out,  and  patch  her  up  with  clay  or 
something,  and  then  sink  her  again.  So  I  vote  we  work 
like  billio  at  the  model." 

*'  All  right,"  said  Mac,  "  and  get  all  the  things  we  can 
by  digging  in  the  huts  here." 

They  talked  on  excitedly  for  rather  more  than  an  hour. 
Mr.  Hampden  found  them  there  when  he  returned  from 
the  wood.     They  offered  him  cocoa. 

"  I  hope  you've  been  keeping  your  eyes  open,"  he  said, 
**  because  directly  we  get  back  to  civilisation  you'll  have 
to  start  that  book  we  talked  about.  And  now  you  go 
and  turn  in.  It's  getting  on  for  three  o'clock,  and  you'll 
have  a  hard  day  to-morrow.  Into  bed  with  you.  I'm 
going  to  roll  up  in  a  blanket  in  front  of  the  fire." 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

Four  weeks  later,  the  visitors  at  the  Waters  Orton 
Bazaar  were  much  impressed  by  a  map  and  model  of 
Brown  Willy,  and  by  a  couple  of  big  glass  cases  full  of 
remains  from  the  British  village.  Nothing  very  interest- 
ing was  among  the  remains.  They  were  mostly  spindle - 
whorls,  broken  bone-needles,  bits  of  pottery  (one  of  them 
rather  a  big  bit  containing  some  of  the  bones  of  a  hare), 
and  withered  pieces  of  charcoal.  They  were  described  in 
a  printed  twopenny  catalogue,  which  was  one  of  the 
attractions  of  the  bazaar. 

"THE    BRITISH    VILLAGE    ON    BROWN    WILLY, 

AND    HOW   IT   FELT  TO   BE   AN   ANCIENT  BRITON. 
By  Three  of  the  Villagers," 

was  the  heading  on  the  title-page.     At  the  end  were  some 
advertisements. 

'*  People  who  are  interested  in  Ancient  British  Customs 
may  have  their  handkerchiefs  dyed  yellow  in  British  Dye 
for  sixpence  each  handkerchief.  Apply,  the  Keeper  of  the 
model  village. 

**  N.B. — The  dyers  hope  soon  to  have  the  secret  of 
dyeing  with  woad,  only  woad  isn't  very  common  round 
here. 

"  Look  !     Look  !     Look  !     Model  dyed  handkerchiefs. 
Only  sixpence  this  style." 

The  handkerchief  was  marked  "  R.  Shenstone."  It  was 
of  a  sickly  yellow  colour,  with  deep  orange  bands  where 
the  dye  had  run  upon  it.  Only  two  people  (both  of  them 
young  ladies  bribed  by  Mr.  Hampden)  supported  that 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

particular  ancient  British  custom.  But  the  book  sold 
well,  and  over  a  hundred  people  paid  the  extra  twopence 
to  have  the  relics  and  model  explained  to  them. 

Three  days  after  the  bazaar  Uncle  Jarvis's  gunboat 
was  riddled  to  the  likeness  of  a  sieve  by  a  magnificent 
brass  M.  L.  Parrot  gun,  which  would  put  a  catty-bullet 
through  tin  at  a  range  of  at  least  five  yards. 


260 


Chapter  XIX 


NE  day,  after  the  return  from  camp, 
Mr.  Hampden  suggested  that  the 
two  boys  should  set  to  work  to  make 
a  chart  of  the  river  from  the  bridge 
which  blocked  the  way  upstream  to 
the  farther  end  of  the  lake. 

"  If  you  were  real  sailors/'  he  said, 
"  instead  of  a  pair  of  young  pirates, 
you'd  have  done  that  long  ago." 
"  Please,  sir,"  the  boys  said,  "  we  don't  know  how  to 
make  a  chart." 

"  What  ?"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  Don't  you  make 
maps  at  school  in  your  geography  lessons  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  boys  ;  **  but  we  only  copy  maps  in 
our  atlases,  or  draw  them  from  what  we  remember  of  the 
maps  in  our  atlases." 

"  That  isn't  much  good  to  you,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 
"  A  map  ought  to  be  a  record  of  a  place  of  actual  use  to 
the  people  who  make  it.  Don't  you  ever  make  maps  of 
the  school-grounds,  or  of  the  village  near  by,  or  of  the 
places  where  you  can  always  find  birds'-nests  ?" 
"  No,  sir." 

"  Could  you  tell  the  points  of  the  compass  wherever 
you  might  be  ?" 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Mac. 

"  I  think,"  said  Robin,  "  the  north  would  always  seem 
to  be  in  front,  and  the  east  to  the  right,  as  they  are  in 
maps." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Hampden  ;  "  they  are  in  maps,  I 
know.  But  you  w^ouldn't  go  very  straight  if  you  acted 
on  that  theory  in  making  a  map  for  yourself.  The  first 
thing  you  must  know  in  making  a  map  is  the  bearing  of 
one  place  from  another  ;  so  let's  get  the  motor-boat  out. 
We'll  go  upstream,  and  start  a  chart  of  the  river.  Here's 
a  drawing-book  with  plenty  of  leaves  in  it.  I  dare  say 
you've  got  a  pencil  between  you.  We'll  see  how  near 
the  truth  we  can  get." 

It  was  a  fine,  hot  August  day.  The  English  country 
was  at  its  best.  The  osiers  rustled  coolly  ;  the  kingfishers 
darted  like  flying  jewels.  There  was  a  murmur  aloft  of 
all  the  multitudinous  life  which  drones  and  buzzes  in  the 
summer  air  like  the  world  humming  as  it  spins.  The 
world  seemed  at  peace  all  about  the  boys  as  they  threshed 
upstream,  but  it  was  not  really  at  peace.  Birds,  wasps, 
dragon-flies,  arid  innumerable  lesser  murderers,  darted, 
and  hovered,  and  killed,  as  though  the  fine  weather 
were  only  sent  to  make  murder  easy,  when  food  was 
a  little  more  plentiful  than  when  the  cold  struck. 
Kestrels  hovered  here  and  there,  poising  deliberately,  then 
wheeling  away  with  a  sudden  swift  fluttering  and  long 
sweep.  Over  in  the  wilderness  a  weasel  was  chasing  a 
rabbit.  The  boys  could  hear  the  beast  screaming  almost 
like  a  human  being,  screaming  from  fear,  not  from  pain, 
long  before  the  little  red  devil  leaped  upon  its  back  to 
kill  it.     Shoals  of  tiny  fishes  flickered  upstream  over  the 

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shallows  as  the  boat  approached.  In  the  sun  the  shal- 
lows rippled  like  gold.  A  dragon-fly  poised  a  moment  on 
Mr.  Hampden's  head  as  he  steered  ;  a  snake  on  the  bank 
whipped  itself  into  a  hole  ;  a  water-rat  swimming  hard 
downstream,  with  eyes  staring,  intent  on  some  business, 
dived  suddenly,  making  a  little  hollow  wallop  in  the 
water.  A  moment  later  there  was  a  stirring  in  the  mud 
near  the  bank  where  he  took  to  ground. 

Presently  the  boat  drew  alongside  the  bank  near  the 
cattle-ford  which  led  across  the  river  just  below  the 
bridge.  From  there  the  boys  could  see  down  the  long 
straight  stretch  of  the  river,  which  they  called  Long 
Reach.  They  could  see  the  queer  old  cottage,  with  a 
high-pitched  roof,  which  stood  on  the  slope  above  the 
bend.  William  Jones,  the  tenant  of  the  cottage,  was 
working  in  his  garden.  They  could  just  see  that  it  was 
William.  He  seemed  to  be  swarming  his  bees.  A  farm- 
team  came  clinking  to  the  ford,  and  slopped  slowly  across. 
A  ruddy  lad,  whose  legs  dangled  down  the  horse's  side, 
eyed  them  with  a  grin.  His  horse,  mouthing  the  water, 
raised  his  dripping  muzzle  as  though  considering  the 
bouquet.  It  was  high  summer  everywhere.  The  drone 
of  the  yellow-hammer  on  the  spray  (so  clear  the  little 
bird  was  against  the  burning  dim  blue  of  the  heaven) 
made  a  kind  of  sleepy  music  above  the  drone  going  on 
in  the  air.  Heat-haze  was  shimmering  on  the  cornfield, 
though  it  was  not  yet  twelve  o'clock.  The  smell  of  the 
meadowsweet  was  drowsy  sweet  about  every  ditch. 

*'  Now,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  "  this  is  the  last  navigable 
point.  We  can't  get  the  boat  any  farther  upstream, 
because  there's  no  water,   and  even  if    there  were,   we 

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couldn't  get  through  the  bridge  ;  so  here  we'll  begin  our 
work.  The  first  thing  to  do  is  to  find  out  the  points  of 
the  compass.  Let's  have  your  watch,  Mac.  Take  it  off 
the  chain.  Now  lay  it  on  the  open  leaf  of  the  drawing- 
book,  up  at  the  corner.  Now  turn  the  hour  -  hand 
to  the  sun.  Your  watch  makes  it  twenty-five  minutes 
past  eleven,  I  see.  The  sun  is  still  a  little  to  the  east 
of  south.  Now  the  south  point  lies  exactly  between  the 
hour-hand  and  the  twelve-o'clock  mark  of  that  watch. 
Here's  a  pencil.  We'll  just  make  a  circle  round  the 
watch.  That  will  draw  a  neat  compass  for  us."  He 
rapidly  traced  round  the  watch  with  a  pencil,  and  marked 
the  south  point  with  a  dot.  "  There,"  he  said,  "  thank 
you,  Mac.  You  can  put  your  watch  away  now.  Here 
we  have  a  compass  all  ready  drawn.  All  we've  got  to 
do  is  to  mark  the  other  cardinal  points.  North  must  be 
opposite  south,  and  east  and  west  must  be  here  and 
there,  mustn't  they  ?  Now,  this  reach  is  very  nearly 
straight  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  Cast  your  eye  along  it, 
and  tell  me  in  what  direction  it  runs,  now  that  you  know 
your  cardinal  points." 

After  some  trouble  the  boys  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  river  ran  from  something  north  of  west  to  the 
south  of  east,  but  as  they  did  not  know  the  intermediate 
points  of  the  compass  Mr.  Hampden  had  to  mark  them 
on  the  chart. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  we'll  call  it  west  by  north  to  east 
by  south.  Now  settle  how  big  a  piece  of  the  reach  you 
will  chart  on  each  leaf  of  the  book  here.  A  hundred 
yards  will  be  ample.  That  will  be  just  twenty-five  of 
this  boat's  lengths,   or  a  little  less  than  five  cricket- 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

pitches.  Now,  if  you  were  making  the  map  in  earnest, 
to  be  of  use  to  your  fellow-men,  what  would  you  put  in  ?" 

"  It  would  depend  whether  it  was  for  landsmen  or 
watermen,"  said  Robin,  **  wouldn't  it  ?" 

"  Well,  for  landsmen,  what  would  you  put  in  ?" 

"  The  breadth  of  the  river,"  said  Robin. 

"  The  depth  of  the  ford,"  said  Mac,  "  and  how  high 
the  floods  go.  The  floods  go  right  over  the  road  in  a 
bad  thaw,  so  Jarge  says.  But  I've  never  seen  it  up  above 
the  arches,  have  you,  sir  ?  Jarge  is  a  yarner  ;  he  always 
was  a  yarner.  And  I  suppose  I'd  put  in  whether  there's 
another  ford,  and  who  the  ground  belongs  to,  and  .  .  . 
I  don't  know  if  there's  anything  else  .  .  .  whether  the 
ground's  clay.  But  it's  all  clay.  And  where  you  hit  the 
road  to  Waters  Orton,  and  where  the  Upton  Bridge  Road 
hits  it.  The  river  isn't  very  important  to  landsmen,  if 
you  come  to  think  of  it,  is  it,  sir  ?" 

"  And  supposing  it  were  big  enough  for  ships,"  said 
Mr.  Hampden — "  supposing  ships  could  come  up  here 
from  the  sea — what  would  you  put  in  ?" 

"  The  depth  of  all  the  water,"  said  Robin,  "  or  other- 
wise they  might  stick  in  the  mud." 

'*  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Hampden  ;  "  you'd  certainly  want  the 
depth,  and  you'd  want  to  know  the  breadth,  and  the 
nature  of  the  bottom,  and  a  lot  of  other  details — where 
you  could  get  good  fresh  spring-water,  and  where  your 
ship  could  come  alongside  to  load,  and  what  big  trees  or 
hills  or  houses  her  men  would  have  to  keep  in  a  line  in 
order  to  keep  in  a  safe  channel.  Then  you  would  have 
to  mark  the  average  rise  of  the  floods,  and  the  way  the 
floods  scoop  out  the  river-bed,  and  where  all  the  snags 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

and  sunken  dangers  are.  Now,  here  is  a  leaden  plummet, 
just  like  the  plummet  used  by  real  chart-makers,  only 
not  so  heavy.  You  see  that  at  the  bottom  of  it  there  is  a 
lump  of  grease  let  into  the  lead.  That  is  what  is  called 
the  arming.  When  the  lead  is  dropped  into  the  water 
the  plummet  goes  to  the  bottom,  and  the  arming  receives 
some  mark  from  whatever  is  at  the  bottom.  If  the  bottom 
be  rocky,  the  grease  gets  scratched  ;  if  muddy,  the  mud 
sticks  to  the  lead  ;  if  sandy,  sand  gets  into  the  hollows 
of  the  grease  ;  if  shelly,  scraps  of  shell  stick  into  the 
grease.  The  depth  of  the  water  can  be  told  by  a  glance 
at  marks  on  the  line.  The  marks  are  of  red,  white,  and 
blue  cloth,  leather,  knots,  etc.,  and  a  look  at  the  arming 
shows  the  nature  of  the  bottom.  Now,  if  the  depth  of 
the  water  and  the  nature  of  the  floor  below  it  be  known 
(and  known  to  be  constant),  the  seaman  or  waterman 
can  grope  his  way  along  quite  confidently  on  the  darkest 
night  by  the  use  of  the  lead  alone.  He  puts  a  skilled 
waterman  to  heave  the  lead,  takes  his  chart  of  the  pas- 
sage he  is  making,  and  compares  the  leadsman's  results 
with  the  figures  and  letters  on  the  chart. 

**  Now,  you  are  not  ship  captains  in  charge  of  a  valuable 
cargo  ;  and  this  boat  will  stand  all  the  knocks  this  river 
is  likely  to  give  her  ;  but  if  you  were  in  a  tidal  river, 
taking  a  precious  ship  to  her  berth,  you  would  have  to 
handle  her  as  if  she  were  glass.  For  a  ship  may  be  any- 
thing from  five  hundred  to  twenty  thousand  tons,  and 
her  cargo  may  weigh  anything  to  about  a  third  as  much 
again  ;  and  a  weight  of  that  sort,  if  it  strikes  anything, 
strikes  it  with  fearful  force — with  the  force  of  its  own 
weight  multiplied  by  its  speed.     A  ship  of  ten  thousand 

266 


A  skilled  waterman  to  heave  the  lead.* 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

tons,  going  ten  miles  an  hour,  would  strike  a  rock  or 
shoal  with  an  impact  of  one  hundred  thousand  tons, 
which  is,  of  course,  a  force  that  cannot  be  imagined. 
It  is  something  too  awful  for  the  mind  to  conceive.  It 
would  crumple  up  her  plates  like  brown  paper.  Perhaps 
you  have  seen  the  bows  of  an  iron  ship  which  has  been 
in  collision  ?  The  plates  are  all  crunched  and  rolled  like 
so  much  paper.  I  have  seen  the  half  of  a  ship  which 
had  been  cut  in  two  by  the  force  of  such  a  blow.  So  you 
will  realise  that  the  makers  of  charts  have  to  take  the 
utmost  care  lest  they  leave  any  danger  unmarked  in  their 
work.  Here  is  a  little  bit  of  a  chart  of  an  English  harbour. 
With  all  these  soundings  and  buoys  and  bearings,"anyone 
could  bring  up  a  ship  to  anchor  by  daylight  ;  and  at  night 
there  are  all  these  lights,  and  in  foggy  weather  these  sound- 
signals  noted  at  the  foot. 

"  Now  set  to  work,  and  see  what  sort  of  a  chart  you 
can  make  of  this  bit  of  the  reach.  You  might  make  a 
note  to  begin  with  something  like  this  :  '  The  depth  of 
water  noted  on  this  chart  is  that  of  a  normal  August. 
Highest  recorded  flood  is  ...  so  many  feet  higher  ; 
usual  depth  is  .  .  .'     Come,  what  is  the  usual  depth  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,  sir,"  the  boys  answered. 

"  Well,  look  about  you.  Use  your  eyes,"  said  Mr. 
Hampden.  "  There's  the  bank,  with  the  usual  depth  of 
water  written  in  capitals  on  it.  Surely  you  can  see  where 
the  watercourse  usually  runs  ?  And  there's  the  bridge, 
with  notes  of  all  the  floods  since  1702.  Look  at  the  stone 
on  the  middle  pier.  It  is  smeared  with  flood-marks. 
Call  it  four  feet  from  the  height  of  the  normal  August 
flow  to  the  latest  big  flood.     That  was  the  big  flood  after 

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the  snow  two  years  ago,  when  the  sheep  were  drowned 
just  above  my  rapids — twenty-one  sheep.  There  was  a 
sudden  thaw,  with  great  rain.  You'll  remember  it,  per- 
haps. You  can  see  from  the  banks  that  the  normal 
height  of  the  water  is  about  a  foot  above  what  it  is  at 
present.  Now  tie  this  line  to  the  plummet.  I've  marked 
the  line  just  as  an  ordinary  sailor's  handline  is  marked, 
only  the  marks  are  all  in  feet  instead  of  fathoms.  You 
will  see  that  the  line  is  twenty  feet  long  instead  of  twenty 
fathoms.  I'll  tell  you  the  marks  as  you  uncoil  the  line. 
You  can  repeat  them  after  me.  A  little  bit  of  black 
leather  both  at  two  feet  and  three  feet  ;  a  white  rag  at 
five  ;  a  red  rag  at  seven  ;  more  black  leather  at  ten  and 
thirteen  ;  white  again  at  fifteen,  and  red  again  at  seven- 
teen. The  feet  which  are  not  marked  are  one,  four,  six, 
eight,  nine,  twelve,  fourteen,  and  those  after  seventeen. 
These  unmarked  feet  are  called  deeps,  or,  as  it  was  once 
written,  dips.  When  you  are  heaving  the  lead  (and,  by 
the  way,  I'll  trouble  you,  while  you're  here,  to  drop  it, 
not  heave  it)  you  '  call '  the  soundings  as  you  make  them. 
You  see  what  depth  of  water  you  have,  and  call  it  aloud  : 
'  By  the  mark,  seven  ';  *  By  the  deep,  nine,'  or  whatever 
it  may  be.  If  the  line  of  the  water  be  not  exactly  at  a 
mark  or  deep,  you  guess  how  far  it  is  from  it,  and  call 
out  accordingly.  If  the  depth,  for  instance,  is  seven  and 
a  half,  you  call  out,  *  And  a  half,  seven.'  If  it  be  more 
than  that,  but  still  less  than  eight,  you  call  out,  '  Quarter 
less,  eight.'     Can  you  remember  those  funny  rules  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Mac  ;  "  but  I  don't  see  how  you're  to 
tell  the  depth  on  a  dark  night." 

"  Oh,  it  is  easy  enough,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.     "  The 

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leadsman  has  always  good  eyes  as  well  as  a  lantern. 
After  a  little  practice  he  can  tell  pretty  well  what  marks 
have  run  out  from  his  hand,  almost  without  looking.  He 
is,  of  course,  some  little  distance  above  the  water  when 
he  heaves,  and  he  allows  for  that  length  of  line  when  he 
hauls  in  after  heaving  ;  otherwise,  if  the  ship  be  fairly 
steady,  and  the  waves  not  very  big,  there  is  no  difficulty 
at  all.  But  the  act  of  heaving  needs  practice  ;  that  is 
why  I  told  you  not  to  do  it  in  the  boat  here.  You  sway 
your  lead  to  and  fro  like  a  pendulum  till  you  get  it  going 
at  a  good  speed  ;  then  you  swing  it  over  your  head  once 
or  twice.  When  it  is  in  full  motion  you  heave  it  as  far 
forward  as  you  can  into  the  wash  of  water  at  the  ship's 
bows,  and  let  the  weight  of  the  plummet  carry  the  line 
out  till  it  reaches  the  bottom.  You  notice  the  depth  of 
water  as  the  line  straightens  out  vertically  under  you. 
It  takes  some  practice  to  do  it  well — in  fact,  nothing  can 
be  really  well  done  at  first  without  practice.  Beginners 
are  very  liable  to  get  the  plummet  down  on  their  skulls 
when  they  first  try  to  swing  jt  right  round.  As  it  weighs 
from  seven  to  nine  pounds,  this  is  not  very  pleasant, 
especially  if  you  are  swinging  with  a  long  line. 

"  Now  begin  at  the  ford,  and  find  the  depth  of  water 
in  the  river.  Draw  pencil-lines  on  your  paper  to  mark 
the  general  trend  of  the  river  according  to  the  compass. 
Draw  them  faintly,  for  afterwards,  when  you  draw  the 
actual  lines  of  the  banks,  you'll  want  to  rub  the  lines  out. 
They  will  give  you  the  general  trend  of  the  river,  and  you 
will  then  have  to  show  how  the  banks  vary  from  the 
general  trend.  You  will  have  to  fill  your  map  with  all 
sorts  of  information — depth  of  water,  strength  of  current, 

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places  where  the  current  is  bad,  places  where  there  is  a 
back- wash,  the  bearings  of  different  objects  on  the  shore 
likely  to  help  navigators — all  sorts  of  things.  Now  you 
put  me  ashore  here.  I'll  measure  out  a  stretch  of  ten 
yards  from  the  bridge  down  the  stream.  That  will  be  a 
tenth  part,  won't  it,  of  your  first  sheet  of  chart,  or  about 
an  inch  and  a  quarter  of  river  on  your  drawing  ?  You 
will  have  to  make  very  neat  tiny  figures,  or  you  will  get 
your  work  out  of  scale.     I'm  going  ashore.*' 

He  jumped  ashore  from  the  bow,  and  set  to  work  to 
measure  ten  yards  from  the  bridge  and  down  the  stream. 

"  Here,"  he  said,  driving  an  osier- withy  into  the  ground 
of  the  bank,  "  this  is  your  ten-yards'  mark.  Now  you 
get  to  work  on  your  chart.  I'll  be  back  in  about  half  an 
hour  with  some  lunch." 

He  waved  his  hand  to  them  as  he  set  off  up  the  road. 
After  a  few  steps  he  turned. 

"  By  the  way,"  he  called,  *'  don't  fiddle  with  the 
motor.  You  can  poke  the  boat  about  quite  easily  with 
the  quant." 

He  passed  quickly  up  the  road,  round  the  bend,  towards 
Dick's  Hill.     The  two  boys  looked  at  each  other. 

"  I  know  what  I  shall  do  first,"  said  Mac,  after  they 
had  agreed  that  the  lunch  idea  was  a  jolly  good  one.  ''  I 
shall  just  sit  down  and  draw  in  the  outlines  of  the  banks 
from  here,  and  then  fill  in  the  water  afterwards." 

"  No  ;  I  wouldn't  do  that,  if  I  were  you,"  said  Robin, 
"  because  we've  only  got  a  space  of  twenty  lines  for  the 
whole  ten  yards — two  lines  to  a  yard.  Let's  do  what 
we  do  at  school  when  we  want  to  do  a  specially  good  map 
for    old    Jouncer.      Let's    measure    everything.      We'll 

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measure  all  those  little  bays  in  the  banks,  and  then  put 
them  in,  just  as  they  are,  to  scale,  and  get  the  direction 
right  by  the  compass.  I  say,  I  wish  we'd  got  a  real 
compass.  It's  such  a  swot  having  to  do  it  all  with  your 
watch.  We'd  better  begin  by  getting  the  actual  breadth 
at  the  bridge,  measuring  by  the  lead-line." 

"  I  forgot  we  had  the  lead-line,"  said  Mac.  '*  I  was 
wondering  how  we  were  going  to  measure  anything. 
You're  the  youngest.  You  can  do  the  measuring,  and 
I'll  pole.  We'll  measure  by  the  bridge  first."  He  picked 
up  the  light  iron-shod  quant,  and  nimbly  thrust  the  boat 
upstream  till  her  nose  turned  the  mud  a  few  inches  below 
the  bridge.  "  You  could  just  lay  the  lead-line  along  the 
bridge  parapet,"  he  said.  "  That  would  save  you  the 
trouble  of  measuring  from  the  boat." 

"  No,"  said  Robin  ;  "  but  that  wouldn't  be  quite  the 
same  thing.  We'll  pretend  the  bridge  is  a  great  cliff, 
and  we're  pirates  finding  out  about  it  in  a  boat,  so  that 
afterwards  our  ship  could  come  and  unload  treasure. 
I  wonder  what  sort  of  charts  the  pirates  had." 

"  I  don't  expect  they  bothered  much  about  measuring,** 
said  Mac,  "  except  the  number  of  paces  from  the  mark 
to  where  the  treasure  was  buried."  A  memory  of  the 
map  in  **  Treasure  Island  "  came  into  his  mind.  **  They 
did  little  pictures  on  their  maps,"  he  added,  "  of  ships 
under  sail  and  whales  spouting.  Mr.  Hampden  can  draw 
like  billio.  We  might  ask  him  to  draw  a  pirate  ship  in 
the  corner  when  the  map  is  done,  and  then  we  could 
give  it  to  mother." 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Robin,  craning  over  into  the  mud  to 
fix  his  plummet.     "  Now  back  across,   Mac,   so   as   to 

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stretch  the  Hne  across  as  far  as  it'll  go.  There,"  he 
added,  as  the  limit  of  the  line  was  reached,  **  that's 
twenty  feet  to  this  mark  on  the  stone.  Now  I'll  do  it 
foot  by  foot.  Back  away,  I  say.  There  goes  a  pike. 
I  say,  Mac,  under  this  arch  must  be  a  fine  place  for  a 
pike.  I  wonder  if  we  could  get  him  with  a  spoon. 
They're  generally  so  awfully  wily.  I  wonder,  if  we  crept 
up  with  gaffs,  we  could  harpoon  him.  We  could  make 
harpoons  out  of  sticks,  and  put  nails  at  the  end,  or  try 
to  make  them  out  of  fish-bones,  like  Mr.  Hampden  says 
they  do  in  Australia." 

'*  I  don't  suppose  we  could  really,"  said  Mac.  "  Pike 
go  so  quick.  It  takes  years  of  practice  to  spear  fish. 
We  might  try,  though.  It  would  be  fun  to  catch  him 
first  go  off .  I  expect  he'd  kick  about  a  good  deal,  unless 
we  got  him  through  the  heart.  But  we  should  want 
barbs  on  our  harpoons,  or  he  might  easily  wriggle  off. 
I  don't  see  how  we  could  manage  the  barbs,  unless  we 
got  a  bit  of  salmon-spine  and  sharpened  the  end,  and 
used  that.     That  would  have  prongs  sticking  out." 

"  We'd  have  to  be  careful,"  said  Robin,  "  for  I  believe 
bone  barbs  are  simply  awful  poison.  You  get  lockjaw 
even  from  a  scratch.  That  makes  forty- three  feet  right 
across  the  river.  The  ford  makes  it  broad.  Forty-three 
feet.  Threes  into  forty-three  goes  fourteen  times  and 
one  over.  That's  fourteen  yards  one  foot,  or  twenty- 
eight  lines  and  a  scrap  on  the  chart.  I  say,  we've  got  to 
make  our  chart  on  a  jolly  small  scale.  Well,  here's  a 
beginning.  The  bridge  runs  from  south  south-west.  I 
say,  do  pay  attention,  Mac.     You're  always  mooning." 

"I'm  not  always  mooning.     I'm  looking  in  this  mud 

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for  otter-tracks.  Jarge  says  there  are  otters  here,  as  well 
as  water-ousels.  Talking  about  water-ousels,  I  know  one 
thing  this  chart-making  '11  teach  us — all  the  best  bathing- 
places." 

"  Yes,"  said  Robin  ;  *'  there  ought  to  be  some  clinking 
reaches  along  here.  Only  there's  the  weed.  Weed's  jolly 
dangerous.  That  ass  Barnby  said  a  fellow  was  drowned 
at  his  place  last  summer  by  going  bathing  where  there 
were  weeds.  Now,  do  look  here,  Mac.  What  do  you 
make  the  bridge  ?  I  say  it  runs  south  south-west  and 
north  north-east.     Take  out  your  watch  and  try." 

"  Yes,  near  enough,"  said  Mac,  squinting  at  the  sun 
across  his  watch-glass.  "  Put  the  bridge  in  on  the  map, 
and  then  I'll  pole  you  out  while  you  take  the  soundings. 
I  say,  I  vote  we  go  home  and  get  that  little  pocket- 
compass  I  won  in  the  hundred  yards.  You'll  never  get 
it  in  exactly  just  by  a  watch." 

Robin  shook  his  head.  "  Can't,"  he  said.  "  We  might 
if  we'd  our  own  boat,  but  not  with  this  thing.  We'd 
have  to  pole  her,  and  it's  so  deep  under  the  cliffs  there. 
We'd  never  get  her  back.  But  I  know  what.  How'd  it 
be  if  we  .  .  .  Lend  me  your  sixpence.  I  know  what. 
I'll  make  a  lot  of  little  tiny  compasses  all  over  the  paper. 
The  sixpence  will  make  the  circles,  and  then  I'll  pencil  in 
the  points.     That'll  help  when  I  put  the  banks  in." 


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Chapter  XX 


lE  was  a  deft  little  boy,  with  a  neat- 
ness of  mind  which  showed  itself 
unexpectedly  in  ways  of  thought 
seldom  followed  by  boys.  He  drew 
his  little  circles  with  the  aid  of  the 
sixpence. 

"  Now,"    he    said,    "  we'll    start 

sounding.     I'll  bet  you  the  water's 

deepest  where  the  current's  strongest — ^under  this  second 

arch.     The  mud  must  get  gouged  out  and  shoved  aside 

by  the  pier  or  carried -down." 

M  Mac  shoved  the  boat  out  till  she  danced  in  the  cockle 
below  the  arch.  ''  All  very  well  your  taking  soundings," 
he  said,  "  but  how  are  we  to  fix  the  exact  place  of  each 
sounding  ?" 

This  was  a  hard  question.  One  hole  in  the  water 
seemed  very  like  another  hole.  This  time  it  was  Mac 
who  solved  the  problem. 

*'  I  know  what,"  he  said.  "  We'll  have  to  take  the 
bearings  by  the  compass.  One  bearing  from  in  front, 
and  one  from  some  place  at  the  side.  We  could  take 
that  old  willow,  where  the  hornets'-nest  was,  for  one  of 
our^marks." 

"  Yes,"   said   Robin,    "  that's   right  ;    and   the   points 

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above  the  centres  of  the  bridge  arches  would  do  for  the 
other.  We'll  begin  opposite  the  centre  of  the  first  arch 
here.  I  make  that  to  bear  due  west,  and  .  .  .  Oh,  hold 
the  boat  steady,  Mac  ;  the  current's  just  pulling  her  off. 
That's  better.  Now,  steady  a  minute.  The  tree's  north- 
east.    Pole  her  up  a  little  bit,  or  she'll  be  carried  down." 

Mac  thrust  with  his  pole,  and  Robin  dropped  his 
plummet  into  the  water. 

*'  And  a  half  three,"  he  called.  "  Or  do  you  think  it's 
nearer  four?  Keep  the  boat  from  drifting,  Mac.  She's 
going  downstream  like  one  o'clock.  Now  you'll  have  to 
pole  her  up  till  I've  got  the  bearings  right  again.  Give 
her  another  shove.  Yes  ;  it's  three  and  a  half  opposite 
the  arch,  and  within  three  lines  of  the  bridge.  Now  then, 
edge  her  to  the  side  a  bit.  We'll  get  the  shallow  at  the 
back  of  the  pier." 

"  Hold  on,"  said  Mac.  **  What  have  you  got  on  the 
arming  ?" 

'*  Looks  like  fine  sand,"  said  Robin.  "  Fine  sand,  sort 
of.  A  sort  of  fine,  fresh-water  sand.  There's  a  kind  of 
a  goldeny  look  on  this." 

"  Is  it  heavy  ?"  Mac  asked.     *'  'Cos  gold  sand  is  heavy." 

"  There's  not  enough  of  it  to  tell,"  said  Robin.  He 
weighed  the  probable  difficulty  of  getting  a  larger  quantity, 
and  decided  to  damp  the  project  with,  "  But  I  don't 
suppose  it's  gold  really." 

"  No  ;  I  don't  suppose  it  is,"  said  Mac.  "  It'd  be 
known  about  if  it  was  gold.  People  go  about  the  world 
looking  at  places  like  this  to  see  if  there's  gold.  There 
used  to  be  gold  in  England  in  the  rivers.  I  know  about 
that,  'cos  old  Jouncer  said  something  about  it  when  we 

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were  doing  lessons.  But  it's  all  said  to  be  worked  out 
now  or  forgotten  about.  It's  generally  higher  up  in  the 
hills." 

Bit  by  bit  the  boys  worked  out  the  soundings  of  their 
ten  yards  of  water.  When  they  had  taken  about  fifty 
soundings  they  had  come  to  have  a  good  knowledge  of 


.^Or^  ^^ 


"  The  boys  worked  out  the  soundings." 

how  the  water  was  spread  upon  the  river-bed.  First,  at 
the  bridge,  three  deepish  channels  gouged  in  freshets 
through  the  sand  by  the  rush  of  the  current  through  the 
arches  ;  then  the  shallow  stretch  of  the  ford,  almost 
uniformly  two  feet  six,  but  tapering  away  to  golden- 
brown  shallows  at  both  sides  ;  then  a  contraction  of  the 
stream  into  the  breadth  which  it  maintained  all  down 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

the  reach,  with  a  gradual  deepening  to  four  feet,  with 
sudden  mysterious  drops  to  five  feet  and  inexpHcable 
patchy  shallows. 

**  I  don't  understand  these  shallows,"  said  Robin,  as 
he  paused  to  mop  his  face.  "  Look  here,  Mac.  There's 
a  great  deep  pot-hole,  a  good  five  feet  three,  right  in  the 
middle  here,  and  it  goes  down  quite  suddenly  out  of  a 
shallow.  Turn  the  boat's  head  to  the  bank  opposite  the 
stump  there.  Now  upstream.  Look  at  this.  The  depth 
is  barely  three.  Now  you  try  downstream  on  your  side. 
You  see,  you  get  more  than  five.  You  can  even  work 
along  the  edge  of  the  pot-hole,  and  find  out  how  it  lies. 
Look  here  ;  here  it  is  still — a  sort  of  bar  in  the  river-bed. 
I  say,  isn't  chart-making  interesting  ?  Yes  ;  the  bar 
points  right  across  in  an  almost  straight  line.  I  say, 
Mac,  we  shall  be  able  to  know  what  goes  on  under  the 
water.  We'll  be  like  the  water-rangers  in  that  story. 
And  won't  it  be  fun  coming  out  after  a  flood  to  find  out 
what  the  flood's  done  ?  Here,  this  is  the  end  of  the  bar, 
whatever  it  is.  There  must  be  a  bar  of  something  big, 
ten  or  twelve  feet  long,  lying  across  the  river-bed.  Lend 
us  the  quant,  or  jab  it  down  to  see  what  it  feels  like.  I 
can  only  get  soft  sandy  mud  and  little  black  bits  of  sodden 
leaf  on  the  arming." 

"  Feels  hke  something  hard,"  said  Mac,  probing  with 
the  quant.  "  It  feels  like  a  great  big  log  of  a  sodden 
tree." 

**  It  would  probably  be  a  willow-tree,  then,"  said  Robin. 
"  It  can't  be  an  alder,  for  alders  don't  have  big  trunks. 
I  expect  this  shallow  part  at  the  end  is  the  mud  and 
wreck  caught  in  what  is  left  of  the  branches.     This  is  a 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

danger  to  ships.  We'll  have  to  put  it  in  very  carefully. 
It  seems  to  point  almost  north  and  south  across  the 
stream.  Let  the  boat  go  downstream  a  bit  there.  Let's 
look  at  it  from  below  to  see  if  it  shows  in  any  way.  A 
big  thing  like  that  ought  to  give  some  sign." 

They  let  the  boat  drift  for  a  few  yards  from  the  sunken 
danger.  They  stared  out  over  the  bows  at  the  wrinkling 
water  as  it  glimpsed  in  golden  flots  in  a  wind-ruffle. 

"  Suppose,"  said  Mac — "  suppose  we  were  discoverers 
coming  up  a  river  now,  and  suppose  we  only  drew  three 
and  a  half  feet,  and  we  were  looking  out  for  danger." 

"  It  doesn't  show  much,"  said  Robin,  "  does  it  ?  And 
yet  in  a  way  it  does.  There's  that  smooth  bit,  and  then 
a  lot  of  little  wrinkles  and  twists  like  little  tiny  whirl- 
pools. Somehow  the  water  looks  different  on  both  sides 
where  it's  the  usual  depth.  This  is  one  of  the  places 
Mr.  Hampden  meant  when  he  said  that  .  .  .  what  was  it  ? 
.  .  .  about  keeping  the  houses  in  a  line  in  order  to  get 
safely  to  an  anchorage.  I  know  what  we'll  do.  We'll 
sound  out  the  best  passage  past  the  danger.  We'll  try 
getting  round  the  south  end  first,  and  note  down  what 
marks  keep  us  in  the  deepest  channel.  I  say,  mustn't  it 
be  exciting  to  be  really  doing  it  in  a  big  ship  in  a  place 
where  no  one  has  ever  been  before  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Mac  ;  "  but  I  should  think  it  would  be  too 
anxious  to  be  exciting.  It  would  be  horrible  to  get 
stuck  far  from  home." 

He  quanted  the  boat  carefully  to  the  southern  channel, 
while  Robin  glanced  from  the  water  to  the  watch,  which 
lay  on  the  thwart  in  front  of  him,  and  from  the  watch  to 
the  points  from  which  he  took  his  bearings. 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  Deep  enough  on  this  side,"  he  called.  "  Almost  all 
of  it  four  feet,  and  it  keeps  pretty  deep  right  up  to  the 
bank.  Shove  her  up  to  the  bank  ;  I  want  to  get  a  sound- 
ing of  it.     No  ;  shove  her  off  again  :  we'd  ground." 

He  was  busy  for  a  moment  with  his  pencil  and  com- 
passes. 

"  That's  it,"  he  said — "  that's  the  south  channel.  You 
keep  dead  for  the  south  arch,  as  close  to  the  middle  as 
you  can,  and  the  danger-line  is  anything  to  the  north  of 
the  pier  north  of  it.  It's  a  pity  the  bottom  doesn't  vary 
more.  I'd  like  to  come  here  at  night — wouldn't  you  ? — and 
just  find  my  way  by  sounding  and  looking  at  the  arming. 
I  vote  we  ask  mother  if  we  may  some  night." 

'*  Yes,  I  vote  we  do,"  said  Mac.  "  I  expect  really  the 
bottom  varies  a  good  deal,"  he  added ;  **  only  the  arming 
isn't  a  very  good  thing  for  a  river  like  this.  The  plummet 
isn't  heavy  enough,  and  it  doesn't  go  down  hard  enough. 
We  ought  to  have  a  sort  of  tin  can  tied  to  a  sinker,  and 
then  dredge  with  that.  That'd  be  rather  sport.  We 
might  find  some  queer  things  in  the  mud — all  sorts  of 
things.  You  remember  that  time  I  went  to  the  museum 
in  Kinchester  ?  Half  the  things  there  seemed  to  have 
been  found  in  the  river." 

"  What  sort  of  things  ?"  said  Robin. 

"  Oh,  lots  of  things,"  said  Mac.  "  I  forget.  There 
were  a  lot  of  swords,  for  one  thing." 

"  Hadn't  the  water  made  them  all  rusty  ?"  Robin 
asked. 

"  They  were  copper  swords  or  something,"  said  Mac ; 
"  and  then  there  were  Roman  helmets." 

"  How  did  they  get  into  the  river  ?" 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  Tossed  away,  I  expect,  when  the  Romans  were 
running  away  out  of  England.  Or  I  dare  say  they'd 
come  up  the  river  in  boats,  and  fought  in  the  river  itself, 
and  been  killed  there.  Julius  Caesar  crossed  the  Thames. 
Perhaps  these  Romans  were  just  crossing  the  Drowse  at 
Kinchester." 

"  Were  there  any  skulls  in  the  helmets  ?"  asked  prac- 
tical Robin. 

"  No  ;  I  didn't  see  any  skulls.  The  fish  would  do  for 
the  skulls.  Oh,  but  one  helmet  had  a  jolly  big  hole  in 
it  at  the  top.  Then  there  was  a  curious  thing  found  in 
some  river  or  somewhere.  It  was  in  a  ford,  or  a  moat,  or 
something.  It  was  a  sort  of  a  horseshoe  ;  only  you  put 
it  on  a  horse  to  make  its  footmarks  look  like  a  cow's  ;  and 
then  the  mark  it  made  was  really  the  wrong  way  round, 
so  that  people  who  Were  following  you  thought  you  were 
going  the  opposite  way  from  what  you  were." 

*'  I'd  like  to  see  that,"  said  Robin.  "  That's  the  sort 
of  shoe  they  must  have  used  in  cattle-raiding.  Mother 
says  the  Welsh  often  came  raiding  cattle  as  far  as  here  in 
the  old  days.  I  dare  say  there  are  lots  of  those  things 
lying  in  the  mud  here.  She  says  that  little  narrow 
Waters  Orton  Road  is  a  Roman  road,  and  that  the 
Welsh  used  to  come  along  it  all  the  way  from  Hinton 
Travers." 

"  I  know,"  said  Mac.  "  There's  a  field  down  King's 
Orton  way  called  Taffy's  Corner,  where  a  lot  of  Welsh 
got  caught  and  killed.  I  asked  Jarge  about  it,  and  he 
said  as  '  a  didn't  knoa  much  about  en.  Ur  wur  afore 
his  time,  like.  But  there'd  come,  as  he  heerd  tell,  like  a 
lot  of  Welshmen,  some  said  they  was.     Come  stealing 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

the  cows,  like.  So  the  Duke  of  WelHngton,  he  say,  "  Noa 
draa  swords."  So  they  draa  swords,  all  on  em.  Down 
thur  by  Pa'ason's  field  they  begun,  and  they  fought  all 
the  way  along  till  they  come  to  by  Orton  Copse,  and 


Tailor,  I'm  going  to  hang  you  up,  like.'  " 


thur  the  Welshmen  said,  "  Lat  them  cows  goo,  or  us'll 
never  get  home."  And  the  Duke,  he  says,  "  Up,  Guards, 
and  at  'em  !"  so  I've  heard  tell.  And  the  last  Welshman 
left  alive  was  Tailor  Cradock,  and  the  Duke  said  to  en, 
'*  Tailor,  I'm  goin'  to  hang  you  up,  like."     And  soa  he 

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A    Book    of    Discoveries 

did,  truly.  He  hanged  him  at  Cradock's  Tump.  And 
that's  why  it's  called  Cradock's  Tump.'  Jarge  is  full  of 
yarns  like  that  if  you  get  him  alone  on  a  Sunday." 

"  I  wonder  if  he  knows  anything  about  the  Romans  ?" 
said  Robin.  "  I  expect  there's  a  lot  of  stories  about  the 
Romans.  They  came  along  this  road.  They  made  this 
road.  They  had  a  bridge  over  the  river  here,  just  where 
the  bridge  is  now." 

"  I  know,"  said  Mac.  "  They  found  bits  of  the  Roman 
brick  when  they  laid  this  bridge  two  hundred  years  ago. 
It's  in  Penny's  '  Guide-Book.'  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Robin  ;  "  I  was  wondering  if  they  came 
along  here  when  they  were  flying  out  of  England.  I  was 
wondering  if  they  flung  away  their  helmets  into  the  river 
when  they  were  hot  from  running.  If  they  did,  I  expect 
they'd  be  just  about  here,  where  the  current  from  the 
arches  stops." 

"  The  helmets  I  saw  were  roundish,"  said  Mac.  "  They'd 
roll  a  bit." 

There  came  a  hail  from  the  turn  of  the  road.  Mr. 
Hampden  was  coming  down  upon  them  with  a  basket. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  and  how  does  the  chart  get  on  ? 
Have  you  done  it  ?" 

"  Done  a  good  deal,  sir,"  said  Robin,  while  Mac  thrust 
the  boat  into  the  bank,  so  that  Mr.  Hampden  might  get 
on  board.  "  Only  we  can't  put  in  all  the  soundings 
we  would  like  to  make.  We  can't  make  very  neat 
figures." 

"  That's  a  pity,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  "  for  anybody 
can  learn  to  do  that,  just  as  anybody  can  learn  to  write 
a  neat  and  beautiful  hand.     I  suppose  they  teach  you 

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how  to  bowl  a  cricket-ball  and  how  to  write  impositions 
at  three  hundred  lines  a  day,  do  they  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Robin. 

"  And  then  you  leave  your  precious  school,  and  go  out 
to  Canada  to  be  farmers,  and  the  farmer  tells  you  to 
hitch  up  the  black  yoke  and  go  and  yank  out  a  few  tons 
of  granite,  so  that  they  can  get  the  plough  through. 
What  are  you  going  to  do  then  ?  Write  out  '  Quis  potis 
est  dignum  poUenti  pectore  carmen  '  three  hundred  times, 
or  ask  him  to  send  you  down  a  half -volley  ?"  He  took 
the  chart  and  looked  at  it  with  his  quick  critical  eye. 
"  Where  are  we  going  to  lunch  ?"  he  said.  "  Only  prairie- 
oysters  for  lunch.     But  where  shall  we  eat  them  ?" 

**  What's  a  prairie-oyster,  sir  }"  said  Mac,  grinning. 

"  A  prairie-oyster,"  he  said.  "  You'll  soon  see.  You've 
eaten  a  good  many  in  your  time.  Where  do  you  generally 
lunch  ?"  He  did  not  wait  for  an  answer,  but  continued 
to  scan  the  chart,  with  a  quick  glance  right  and  left  to 
compare  the  lines  of  the  banks  with  Robin's  version  of 
them.  "  Yes,  yes  ;  this  is  good  as  far  as  it  goes,"  he  said. 
"  But  you've  not  put  in  the  strength  of  the  currents,  nor 
their  direction.  You  haven't  even  marked  where  the 
currents  are.  You'll  have  to  do  that,  and  then  you'll 
have  to  notice  how  they  vary  at  different  states  of  the 
water,  and  also  how  a  quite  little  thing,  like  the  fall  of  a 
brook  after  frost,  will  alter  them.  Now  come  along. 
Where  do  you  generally  eat  your  lunch  when  you're  out 
together  ?" 

Robin  was  at  the  point  of  telling,  when  fear  of  Mac 
made  him  hold  his  tongue.  He  glanced  at  Mac  for  a 
sign  that  the  precious  secret  might  be  revealed.     He 

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hoped  that  Mac  would  reaUse  that  Mr.  Hampden  had 
long  ago  quaUfied  by  his  kindness  for  initiation  into  the 
secret.  Mac  ought  not  to  hesitate.  Robin  blushed  to 
see  that  he  did  hesitate.  He  hesitated  and  blushed, 
and  looked  like  a  goat.  Mr.  Hampden  smiled  a  little 
in  his  horrid  sarcastic  way.  Robin  could  stand  it  no 
longer. 

"  We've  got  a  secret  camp,"  he  said,  "  but  it  says, 
'  Trespassers  will  he  prosecuted  '  on  the  board,  sir." 

Mac  looked  daggers  at  his  brother.  His  thoughts  were  : 
'*  You  young  ass  !  I  thought  I  told  you  never  to  tell 
anybody  ?  And  our  catties  are  in  the  caches  and  every- 
thing." 

"  So  you  don't  generally  invite  people  ?"  said  Mr. 
Hampden. 

"  There  you  are,"  thought  Mac,  with  enough  expres- 
sion on  his  face  to  make  his  thoughts  obvious  to  his 
brother — "  there  you  are  !  Now  you  see  what  you've 
done,  and  what  you've  let  us  both  in  for." 

"  I  thought  I'd  better  tell  you,  sir,"  said  Robin, 
"  because "     He  stopped  and  blushed. 

"  Because  I  don't  like  trespassing  ?  Is  that  what  you 
were  going  to  say  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  I  don't.  I  don't  like  it  when  it's  done  to  me, 
so  I  don't  do  it  to  other  people.  When  a  person  ex- 
presses a  wish  that  you  should  not  do  a  certain  thing,  one 
ought  to  oblige  him,  within  honourable  bounds.  If  it's 
not  asking  you  to  betray  a  secret,  whose  land  do  you 
trespass  on  ?     I  won't  *  sneak,'  as  you  call  it." 

"  It's  only  old  Farmer  Giles's,"  said  Mac. 

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A    Book    of    Discoveries 

"  And  he's  only  an  old  governor,  eh  ?"  said  Mr.  Hamp- 
den.    **  Where  is  the  land  ?     Anywhere  near  here  ?" 

*'  Yes,'*  said  Robin  ;  "  it's  in  that  waste  bit  like  a  bank 
only  about  three  or  four  fields  from  here.  And  I  know 
he  never  used  the  land,  sir.  He  doesn't  preserve,  and 
he  can't  grow  anything  on  it.  Jarge  says  the  land  isn't 
worth  a  shilling  an  acre,  so  we  don't  do  any  harm,  sir — 
we  don't  really." 

"  Ever  pot  the  bunnies  ?"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 

"  Not  since  you  asked  us  not  to  pot  at  things,  sir." 

This  was  quite  true.  They  had  not  "  pulled  a  catty  " 
since  the  memorable  day  when  they  had  been  caught  on 
the  island. 

"  I  see,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  And  what  do  you  do 
in  this  famous  camp  ?     Do  you  ever  sleep  there  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  the  boys. 

Wild  hope  rose  up  in  their  breasts  that  he  would, 
perhaps,  propose  some  scheme  of  "  sleeping  out,"  either 
there  or,  more  glorious  still,  on  one  of  the  islands.  To 
sleep  in  a  camp,  rolled  in  a  blanket,  with  the  stars  over- 
head passing  across  the  sky,  and  the  owls  calling  up  the 
valley  !  To  see  the  embers  in  the  camp-fire  turning  from  red 
to  grey  !  To  stand  sentry  for  an  hour  or  two  in  the  quaking 
time,  when  the  moonlight  fills  the  wood  with  ghosts  !  The 
Brown  Willy  time  Wcis  still  bright  in  their  minds. 

"  What  do  you  do,  then  ?"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 

**  Just  cook  our  dinners,  sir,"  the  boys  said. 

Robin  cocked  an  inquiring  eye  at  Mac  for  leave  to  tell 
about  the  cache. 

"  We  keep  things  there,"  said  Mac — "  mostly  dinner 
things — in  holes  in  the  ground." 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

'*  Well,  take  me  to  see  this  camp,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 

**  You'll  have  to  crawl,  sir,"  Mac  explained  hesitatingly 
— "  in  fact,  it's  rather  a  job  to  get  there  if  you're  afraid 
of  tearing  your  clothes." 

"  My  clothes  are  made  for  the  woods,"  Mr.  Hampden 
answered,  "  so  come  on." 

"  It's  trespassing,"  Mac  explained. 

"  I  know,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 

''Farmer  Giles  says  he'll  .  .  ." 

"  Farmer  Giles  won't  hurt  me,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 
"  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  bought  that  ground  from  him  a 
couple  of  years  ago.  There  was  some  talk  of  Sir  David 
Flimflam's  buying  it  in  order  to  lay  out  a  racecourse  on 
the  level  there,  which  would  have  meant  this  country- 
side being  flooded  by  all  the  scum  of  England  two  or 
three  times  a  year,  whenever  there  was  a  race-meeting. 
I  didn't  want  to  have  that,  so  I  stepped  in  and  stopped 
it  in  the  only  way  I  could.  So  come  on.  I  kept  the 
sale  secret,  so  as  not  to  annoy  Sir  David.  That  is  why 
you  never  heard  about  it.  I  hope  that,  when  you  grow 
up,  you  will  never  go  to  race-meetings." 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  Mac,  "  don't  they  improve  the 
thoroughbred  ?" 

"  For  what  ?" 

"  For  going  fast,  sir." 

"  Do  you  think  that  that's  important  or  useful  ? 
What's  the  good  of  going  fast  ?" 

"  You  get  there  sooner,"  said  Mac. 

"  And  what  do  you  do  when  you  get  there  sooner  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Mac.  "  You  just  mess  about,  or 
do  whatever  you  like." 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  H'm  !"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "Did  you  ever  see  the 
array  of  scoundrels  which  musters  on  a  racecourse  ? 
Thieves  and  knaves  and  cadgers,  betting-men,  sharpers, 
drunkards — every  variety.  You  would  think  the  horses 
the  only  noble  things  there.  I  hope  to  keep  that  kind  of 
amusement  out  of  Waters  Orton." 

The  boys  glanced  at  each  other.  Something  in 
Mr.  Hampden's  face  made  them  check  their  smiles. 
They  realised  that  this  side  of  horse-racing  was  one 
that  had  been  hidden  from  them.  The  vague,  thought- 
less tradition  of  the  English  school  had  given  them  the 
impression  that  horse-racing  was  a  manly  pastime,  and 
that  our  love  of  horse-racing  was  a  sign  that  we  were  a 
manly  people. 

"  Treading  on  your  corns  ?"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  fol- 
lowing their  thoughts  by  the  blankness  of  their  faces. 
"  Well,  horse-racing  can  be  a  manly  pastime.  When  the 
lovers  of  it  really  ride  their  own  horses,  instead  of  going 
in  thousands  to  see  other  people  ride,  why,  then  I  feel 
that  it  may  be  a  good  thing.  One  can't  be  quite  a  skunk 
if  one  cares  for  horses.  But  one  must  be  idle,  as  well  as 
rather  an  ass,  to  think  that  watching  others  do  a  manly 
thing  can  make  one  anything  but  empty."  He  stopped 
as  the  boys  pulled  up  outside  the  tangle  of  the  covert. 
"  Now,  how  are  we  to  get  through  this  ?"  he  asked. 

**  Hands  and  knees,"  said  Robin.  "  It's  not  far  in, 
but  it's  a  bit  prickly  just  at  the  beginning.  We'll  go 
first,  sir,  and  brush  the  stuff  aside.  We've  not  been  in 
lately,  and  it  does  grow  so." 

He  began  to  squirm  his  way  through  the  thicket,  with 
Mac  close  behind  him. 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

*'  I  say,"  said  Mac  over  his  shoulder,  as  he  began  to 
back  out,  "  how  about  wood  for  a  fire,  sir  ?" 

"  We  shan't  want  a  fire  for  prairie-oysters,"  said  Mr. 
Hampden,  "  so  shove  along  in.     I  want  my  lunch." 

A  prairie-oyster  turned  out  to  be  nothing  more  than  a 
raw  egg  sucked  through  a  hole  in  the  shell.  Mac  balked 
at  it  at  first,  but  took  it  on  being  told  that  Mr.  Hampden 
had  once  seen  a  gipsy  eat  a  dozen  in  three  minutes  for  a 
bet  of  a  gallon  of  beer.  After  the  prairie-oyster,  the 
boys  drank  ginger-beer  from  the  bottle,  and  munched 
some  chocolate  biscuits,  while  Mr.  Hampden  looked  at 
the  chart  and  puzzled  out  the  meaning  of  some  of  Robin's 
hieroglyphs  at  the  side. 


290 


Chapter  XXI 


ATHER  a  good  map,"  he  said. 
"  You  must  finish  it,  and  then 
enlarge  it.  Or  do  it  on  a  larger 
scale,  and  finish  it,  with  every- 
thing put  in  neatly— currents  and 
their  strength,  and  all  the  rest  of 
it.  Then  write  underneath  it 
short  accounts  of  what  you  see 
while  you  are  doing  it.  I'll  buy 
it  from  you  if  you  do  it  as  well  as  you've  done  this  little 
bit.  Do  it  from  the  bridge  to  the  sandstone  cliff — about 
a  week's  work,  taking  it  easy.  You'll  find  it  gets  easier 
as  you  go  along.  But  you've  got  a  whole  month's 
summer  holiday  still  coming  to  you.  You  mustn't  make 
the  mistake  of  going  at  it  every  day  till  you  get  stale. 
Spend  an  hour  at  it  when  you've  nothing  else  to  do. 
I'll  pay  you  a  sovereign  for  it  if  it's  well  done,  and  if  it's 
badly  done  I'll  give  you  what  I  think  you  deserve.  It 
may  be  nothing  at  all.  I  want  you  to  do  it,  because 
boys  so  often  make  the  mistake  of  never  really  learning 
any  bit  of  England  thoroughly,  and  it  is  a  very  big  mis- 
take. England  is  so  beautiful,  and  the  world  is  so 
wonderful,  and  the  more  you  know  the  more  wonderful 

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A    Book    of  Discoveries 

it  seems.  If  you  were  to  make  an  exact  chart  of  that 
river,  with  notes  of  all  that  goes  on  in  it  and  about  it, 
you  would  possess  this  country-side  for  ever  as  perfectly 
as  one  of  the  rabbits  in  the  burrow  here.  When  I  was 
a  youngster  of  about  eighteen  or  nineteen  I  was  stranded 
with  a  ship's  company  in  a  lonely  reach  of  the  Magellan 
Straits.  I  was  wrecked  there.  The  ship  lost  her  way  in 
a  fog,  and  went  on  the  rocks.  We  got  ashore  in  a  ship's 
boat,  which  was  so  dry  from  standing  on  deck  that  the 
seams  all  ran  little  rills.  We  were  lucky  to  get  ashore. 
It  is  a  gloomy  part  of  the  world.  It  is  all  rocky  hills, 
frosted  with  snow,  and  torn  with  glaciers.  Here  and 
there  was  a  colony  of  birds,  all  so  tame  that  we  could 
catch  them.  It  was  very  bleak  and  grim,  living  there. 
We  rigged  up  a  shelter  out  of  a  sail.  We  used  to  sit  and 
shiver  there,  while  the  wind  howled  over  us.  I  can  tell 
you,  the  wind  there  takes  the  heart  out  of  you.  It  comes 
up  straight  from  the  Pole,  with  a  kind  of  yell  which  scares 
you.  We  had  nothing  much  to  drink,  either,  except 
melted  snow.  As  for  food,  we  had  the  birds,  a  few  shell- 
fish, and  a  few  very  precious  sodden  biscuits,  which  had 
been  left  long  before  in  the  boat's  locker.  I  suppose  they 
had  been  put  there  when  the  ship  was  in  dock  some  time, 
when  an  owner  or  somebody  wanted  to  see  if  the  boats 
were  ready  for  an  emergency.  They  were  in  a  horrible 
state,  but  they  were^reat  dainties  to  us.  We  had 
no  other  breadstuff s.  Well,  there  we  were,  in  a  part 
of  the  world  where  no  ships  ever  came.  We  didn't  even 
know  the  name  of  the  reach  or  bay  into  which  we  had 
come.  The  Captain  said  he  thought  it  was  Rossey  Bay, 
but  both  the  mates  thought  it  must  be  a  part  of  St. 

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A  sailor  swarmed  up  and  made  it  fast.' 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

Saviour's  Sound.  There  we  were,  so  lost  that  sometimes 
a  man  would  go  out  of  the  hut  and  wander  up  among  the 
rocks,  and  stare  at  the  loneliness,  and  then  come  back 
and  cry.  Lonely  ?  You  don't  know  what  loneliness  is 
till  you  look  out  of  a  hut  in  the  morning  and  see  an  iron- 
grey  sea  sulky  with  frost,  and  the  masts  of  your  ship 
sticking  out  above  the  water.  She  had  been  a  two- 
masted  ship.  Her  name  was  the  Inesita.  There  she 
was,  deep  in  the  sea,  with  the  fish  flipping  in  her  hold, 
and  those  two  iron  fingers  raised.  We  couldn't  stand 
the  sight  of  those  two  masts.  In  the  end  we  rowed  out 
with  one  of  the  boat  flags,  and  a  sailor  named  Jim  Dane 
swarmed  up  and  made  it  fast,  so  that  she  might  cut  a 
better  figure." 

The  boys  had  often  read  about  shipwreck,  but  nothing 
which  they  had  read  had  been  in  the  least  like  this. 
They  were  so  interested  that  they  sat  staring  at  Mr. 
Hampden,  half  afraid  to  speak,  though  full  of  questions. 
So  this  was.  what  shipwreck  was  like,  this  quite  quiet 
thing.  It  was  a  matter  of  loneliness,  lostness,  and  short- 
ness of  food.  They  had  been  accustomed  to  something 
much  more  stirring — to  masts  coming  down,  a  sea  roar- 
ing, and  the  ship  high  and  dry,  when  all  was  done,  or  close 
to  the  shore,  so  that  the  shipwrecked  men  might  have 
supplies.  A  sense  that  men  might  be  left  in  misery  like 
this  through  no  fault  of  their  own,  perhaps  until  they 
died  there,  dashed  their  longing  to  be  sailors.  They 
had  a  clear  mental  picture  of  rocks  by  the  sea  looking 
like  the  bones  of  earth.  They  saw  the  men  huddled  under 
the  weather-cloth,  tucking  their  fingers  into  their  arm- 
pits.    They  looked  at  each  other,  and  then  looked  again 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

at    Mr.    Hampden,    who    seemed   to   be   living   it    over 
again. 

"  There  was  a  hill  at  the  back  of  our  camp,"  said  Mr. 
Hampden.  ''  At  least,  when  I  call  it  a  hill,  I  insult  hills 
in  general.  It  wasn't  a  hill.  It  was  a  rock  from  which 
all  the  earth  had  been  washed  away  by  the  weather.  It 
was  an  extinct  volcano,  about  three  thousand  feet  high. 
There  was  no  grain  of  earth  upon  it,  only  shale  and  rock, 
which  had  been  frozen  and  buffeted  till  they  were  rotten. 
It  was  like  a  black  cake  dusted  with  snow  instead  of 
sugar.  We  called  it  Mount  Misery.  We  went  up  it  soon 
after  we  landed,  hoping  that  it  would  give  us  our  bear- 
ings. We  hoped  to  see  the  channel  from  it,  or  the  smoke 
of  some  steamer  in  the  channel,  or  at  the  worst  the 
smoke  of  some  Indian's  fire.  But  nothing  of  the  kind. 
One  could  see  the  Sound  curving  and  winding,  and  hills 
like  Mount  Misery  shutting  out  the  view,  and  crags,  and 
ghastly  great  boulders,  and  never  a  green  thing.  There 
were  always  clouds,  too,  not  very  far  away.  We  would 
see  them  banked  all  round  us,  but  always  thicker  to  the 
south — always  rather  reddish,  I  remember.  They  were 
not  like  English  clouds.  Clouds  here  are  never  very 
wicked-looking,  even  at  times  when  they  are  full  of 
poison  from  the  smoke.  They  were  like — let  me  see, 
what  Were  they  like  ?  They  Were  always  there,  and 
always  not  very  far  away.  They  gave  one  a  feeling  of 
being  shut  in.  Yet,  though  they  were  never  far  off,  they 
looked  in  a  way  like  distant  land — as  though  they  were 
a  kind  of  ghost-land  into  which  the  landscape  turned. 
They  were  strange,  those  clouds.  We  used  to  stare  at 
them  till  we  believed  that  they  were  the  gods  of  those 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

parts,  amused  at  us.  The  worst  of  it  was  that  they 
were  always  shutting  down  and  blotting  everything. 
They  closed  in  twenty  times  a  day.  It  would  come  on  a 
thick  whitish-yellow  fog,  wet  as  rain,  and  raw  with  cold — 
horrible  ! — and  whenever  this  fog  came  down  we  couldn't 
see  our  hands  in  front  of  us." 

"  Did  you  try  to  get  away,  sir  ?"  said  Mac. 

"  Oh  yes,  we  tried,"  said  Mr.  Hampden  ;  "  but  first 
we  had  to  caulk  our  boat  with  seaweeds,  since  she  leaked 
like  a  sieve,  and  then  we  had  to  provision  her.  We 
killed  a  lot  of  stupid  sea-birds.  That  was  horrible,  too, 
for  I  have  always  loved  wild  creatures.  We  cut  them 
open,  meaning  to  pickle  them  in  salt  water  ;  but  one  of 
the  men  found  a  kind  of  salt  pond — I  suppose  (though 
perhaps  I  am  wrong)  that  it  had  been  an  arm  of  the  sea, 
and  that  it  had  somehow  dried  up — so  we  salted  the 
birds  there.  I  am  rather  a  good  Salter  ;  but  you  go  home 
and  get  catties,  and  go  and  kill  rabbits  and  salt  them,  and 
live  on  salt  rabbit  for  eleven  days.  You'll  loathe  the 
sight  of  a  rabbit  till  you  die.  That  is  how  I  feel  now 
towards  salted  penguin  and  Cape  pigeon,  and  all  the  rest 
of  them.  When  we  had  provisioned  the  boat  we  had  to 
water  her. 

"  We  had  only  the  ship's  breaker,  or  '  barraco,'  a  tub 
containing  (as  far  as  I  recollect)  about  fourteen  gallons. 
In  one  of  the  boat's  lockers  there  was  a  sailmaker's  bag — 
a  sort  of  small  canvas  sack  with  a  wooden  bottom. 
When  this  had  been  thoroughly  soaked  it  held  water 
well,  but  it  was  quite  small.  It  only  held  about  a  gallon. 
That  brought  the  boat's  water-supply  to  fifteen  gallons, 
which  wasn't  very  much  for  so  cold  a  place.     Cold  makes 

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A   Book    of    Discoveries 

one  very  thirsty.  I  was  thirstier  there  than  in  the 
tropics.  The  throat  gets  dry  with  the  cold.  I  remember 
we  were  always  eating  snow.  Well,  we  got  together 
storage  for  fifteen  gallons  ;  then  the  question  came : 
Who  should  go  in  the  boat  ?  We  couldn't  all  go.  There 
were  over  thirty  of  us.  The  boat  would  only  hold  a 
dozen  with  any  comfort,  and  I  think  everybody  there 
was  more  than  eager  to  be  one  of  the  first  away.  We 
spent  a  whole  evening  arguing  about  it,  and  then  put  it 
to  the  lot.  We  drew  matches  out  of  the  Captain's  cap, 
and  those  who  got  the  unburned  matches  were  to  go. 
The  second  mate  and  ten  others  were  the  lucky  ones. 
They  were  the  gladdest  men  in  camp  that  night.  The}^ 
were  in  great  spirits.  They  made  sure  that  they  had 
only  to  get  out  of  the  Sound  to  run  into  the  main  channel 
where  the  steamers  pass  two  or  three  a  day.  To  leave 
that  camp  was  only  a  step  to  getting  home.  I  thought 
of  buying  or,  rather,  of  trying  to  buy  the  place  of  one  of 
the  lucky  men,  but  then  I  felt  that  I  ought  not  to  do  so. 
We  were  all  equal  there,  and  the  Fates,  or  Providence, 
had  chosen  to  give  him  this  chance  in  preference  to 
myself.  I  decided  that  I  would  bear  what  was  coming 
to  me  like  the  rest,  so  I  said  nothing.  I  went  to  the 
man  whose  place  I  had  thought  of  buying.  I  gave  him 
all  the  tobacco  I  had  (I  was  a  smoker  then)  to  post  a 
letter  for  me  when  he  got  to  Punt  a  Arenas.  He  was  a 
fair-haired  man  of  about  twenty-three.  Henry  Drage, 
his  name  was.  He  came  from  Colchester.  He  was  ia 
great  spirits  about  what  he  called  his  luck  in  getting  a 
seat  in  the  boat.  Some  of  the  others  told  him  not  to 
sing  so  loud,  if  he'd  never  been  adrift  in  an  open  boat. 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

One  old  man,  whose  name  was  Jenssen,  stripped  his  shoe 
— he  had  no  socks — and  showed  us  a  foot  with  only  two 
toes  on  it. 

"  *  I  was  in  an  open  boat,'  he  said,  '  off  the  Horn.  I 
got  me  coes  pinched.  What  do  you  want,  going  in  an 
open  boat,  Henry  ?  You  got  enough  to  eat,  plenty  of 
water,  no  work  to  do,  and  your  wages  running  on  all  the 
time.  Cold  ?  This  ain't  cold.  You  wait  till  you  smell 
the  Brunswick  Channel,  Henry.  You'll  wish  yourself 
back  in  the  camp,  me  son.'  Henry  thought  Jenssen  was 
jealous  of  him  for  having  the  chance  to  get  away. 

"  After  the  drawing  of  the  lots,  the  second  mate  and 
the  other  officers  argued  and  wrangled  with  the  Captain 
about  the  course  the  boat  should  steer.  They  could 
not  agree  about  it.  They  were  not  sure  within  twenty  or 
thirty  miles  of  where  we  could  be.  They  were  quite  in 
the  dark.  We  had  been  running  for  five  or  six  hours 
at  half  and  quarter  speed  in  dense  fog  in  the  blindest 
part  of  the  Straits,  and  where  we  were  we  hadn't 
the  ghost  of  a  notion.  It  is  easy  to  say,  '  Oh,  why 
didn't  you  follow  along  the  shore  of  the  Sound  till 
you  came  to  the  channel  ?'  The  Sound  spread  out  its 
arms  like  a  great  grey  octopus.  It  was  heart-breaking 
to  see  it.  How  were  we  to  know  which  arm  led  to  the 
channel  ?  We  tramped  along  arm  after  arm  over  those 
miles  of  rotten  rock.  We  would  see  the  bends  on  ahead 
curving  round  the  hills,  and  each  bend  led,  as  we  thought, 
into  the  channel,  but  none  did.  You  cannot  think  how 
cruel  that  branching  water  seemed.  We  called  each  arm 
by  a  bad  name — Misery  Harbour,  Skunk's  Delight,  Dis- 
appointment, Old  Footsore,  The  Rest  Cure,  The  Last  Place 

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Made,  Old  Contraption,  etc.,  etc.  Well,  it  was  decided  at 
last.  They  gave  the  second  mate  a  course,  and  when 
day  dawned  he  sailed  with  his  ten  hands.  We  lined  up 
on  the  beach,  and  gave  them  three  cheers,  and  they  gave 
us  one  cheer  back  ;  then  we  sang  a  sea-song  called  '  Rolling 
Home,'  which  sailors  are  very  fond  of  singing.  After 
that  they  cheered  us  again  in  the  sea-fashion,  with  just 
one  cheer.  We  saw  them  get  smaller  and  smaller  as  they 
sailed  away  over  the  reach  in  the  very  light  wind.  It 
was  a  still  morning,  with  a  sort  of  hard  grey  rawness  on 
it  which  made  all  things  grim.  The  last  face  I  saw  of 
them  was  the  second  mate's  face.  He  was  standing  up 
in  the  stern-sheets  steering  the  boat  with  an  oar.  He 
turned  back  and  shouted  something  over  his  shoulder — 
something  about  home  or  cold,  we  couldn't  quite  hear 
what.  After  that  they  passed  into  a  blur,  all  the  men 
sitting  in  a  line  on  the  side,  and  this  one  man  standing." 

"  What  became  of  them,  sir  ?"  said  Mac.  "  Did  they 
get  drowned  ?" 

"  We  never  saw  them  again,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 
*'  They  disappeared.  Whether  they  were  drowned,  or 
starved,  or  run  down,  or  wrecked,  we  never  heard. 
They  just  sailed  away  into  .  .  .  who  knows  what  ? 
Perhaps  the  natives  killed  them.  Natives  were  a  bad  lot 
in  those  days.  They  cut  off  many  poor  fellows  who  were 
wrecked  there.  I  like  to  think  that  they  are  all  alive 
somewhere,  though  I'm  afraid  they  were  all  dead  before 
we  left  Port  Misery.  I  like  to  think  of  them  getting  into 
the  interior,  to  the  settlements,  to  some  good  place  or 
another,  mining  or  ranching — not  much  chance  of  it,  of 
course. 

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"  We  were  very  melancholy  after  they  had  gone,  but 
by  the  end  of  the  day  we  had  begun  to  be  the  brighter 
for  it.  We  were  so  sure  that  they  would  get  to  the 
channel  and  be  picked  up  by  some  ship.  Sometimes  I 
have  thought  that  that  is  what  happened — that  they 
Were  picked  up  by  some  ship  which  never  made  port. 
I  remember  that  we  talked  among  ourselves  about  the 
probable  length  of  our  stay  there.  The  boat  had  sailed 
on  Wednesday  morning.  She  would  be  in  the  channel 
at  latest,  we  thought,  by  Thursday  noon,  allowing  for 
some  delay  in  finding  the  way  out  of  the  pocket  where 
we  were.  Thursday,  at  3  p.m.,  as  we  reckoned,  would 
be  about  the  time  for  the  Pacific  liner  from  Punta  Arenas 
to  Chile.  And  if  the  Pacific  liner  passed  the  boat  in  a 
fog  or  snow-squall,  as  she  well  might,  there  would  still 
be  the  Coronel  Line's  boat  going  the  other  way  with  the 
Chile  mail.  We  reckoned  to  be  out  of  the  place  aboard 
a  good  big  liner  within  forty-eight  hours — say,  by  Friday 
night.     We  waited  three  solid  weeks  there. 

"  At  first  we  were  on  tenterhooks  all  day  long.  Friday 
was  a  bad  day.  We  were  up  betimes  to  make  a  smoke 
on  Mount  Misery  as  a  sailing-mark.  Most  of  us  stayed 
on  the  Mount  all  the  morning,  going  down  in  relays  to 
get  stuff  for  the  fire — a  kind  of  dry  moss,  a  kind  of  peat. 
I  don't  know  how  to  describe  it.  It  was  about  the  only 
plenty  the  land  afforded.  Towards  noon  we  began  to 
get  anxious  lest  the  boat  or  ship  should  come  in  a  fog. 
I  think  all  of  us  were  a  little  afraid  lest  by  some  accident 
we  should  get  left  there.  It  was  absurd,  of  course  ;  but 
misfortune  often  makes  people  childish.  Soldiers  often 
cry  when  they  have  to  fall  back  from  a  position.     I've 

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seen  men  cry  because  there  was  no  water  in  the  water- 
pan  after  a  day  in  the  desert.  Cry  ?  I've  cried  myself. 
One  only  grows  up  in  certain  things.  A  man's  a  great 
baby  in  most  things  till  the  end.  Women  have  more 
sense. 

"  By  the  early  afternoon  we  had  all  left  the  mountain 
for  the  beach.  We  stood  about  on  the  beach  looking 
out  up  and  down  the  Sound,  but  there  came  no  trace  of 
any  ship,  not  even  the  sound  of  a  siren.  We  kept  talking 
among  ourselves,  saying  that  it  wouldn't  be  long  before 
she  came,  or  making  excuses  for  her. 

"  '  I've  known  them  get  delayed  at  Punta  Arenas.' 
Or,  *  Sometimes  it  comes  down  thick  off  the  Evangelists, 
so  that  they  can't  make  the  entrance.'  Or,  *  Maybe  she's 
had  a  break-down.'  But  in  our  hearts  we  thought  all  the 
time  that  the  boat  had  come  to  grief  somewhere.  At 
dark  we  built  up  a  good  fire  on  the  beach  to  guide  them 
to  us  if  they  should  come  in  the  night.  A  good  roaring 
blaze  ought  to  show  for  five  or  six  miles  or  more.  We 
all  worked  hard  gathering  fuel  for  it.  We  cut  into  the 
stuff  with  knives,  and  tore  it  out  with  our  fingers — heaps 
of  it,  armfuls  of  it,  enough  to  keep  the  blaze  going  till 
next  day.  We  still  hoped,  of  course,  for  the  steamer, 
but  by  dark  we  felt  that  something  had  gone  wrong. 
None  of  us  said  so,  only  nobody  protested  when  the 
Captain  put  us  back  to  our  allowance  of  salted  bird. 
Ever  since  the  boat  sailed  we  had  been  eating  as  much 
as  we  pleased,  thinking  it  foolish  to  stint  ourselves  when 
our  misery  was  so  nearly  over.  Now  the  Captain  served 
out  the  allowance  twice  a  day.  It  was  not  a  really  short 
allowance.     It  came  to  about  the  size  of  a  pigeon  each  in 

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a  day.  It  was  roughly-salted  sea-bird,  tasting  of  fish, 
bad  oil,  and  salt.  Sometimes  we  had  soup  of  it.  Many 
poor  people  here  in  England  live  on  worse  food — far 
worse.  The  sailors  had  lived  harder  all  their  lives. 
What  made  it  so  horrible  was  its  sameness.  It  was 
either  penguin  or  mollyhawk,  either  boiled  or  in  soup. 
I  mentioned  shell-fish  just  now.  We  had  shell-fish  for 
the  first  two  or  three  days — a.  sort  of  mean  little  mussel, 
which  we  tapped  off  the  rocks  with  our  sheath-knives. 
Then  some  of  the  men  got  very  ill.  They  had  been 
poisoned  by  the  shell-fish.  They  were  in  great  pain  for 
nearly  a  whole  day — almost  convulsed  with  pain.  The 
Captain  said  that,  as  a  boy,  he  had  been  in  Ireland 
during  the  famine.  That  was  in  1848,  when  so  many 
of  the  Irish  poor  died  of  starvation  or  of  the  pestilence 
which  came  later  when  they  were  weak  from  starva- 
tion. He  said  that  the  fishermen  of  his  village  lived  on 
shell-fish  off  the  rocks — '  mussels  and  snails  ' — just  the 
same  as  we  had  there  in  the  Sound.  He  said  that  the 
fishermen  always  boiled  a  silver  sixpence  in  the  pot  with 
the  shell-fish  when  they  cooked  them.  If  the  sixpence 
turned  black,  then  they  knew  that  the  fish  were  poisonous, 
and  threw  them  away.  If  the  coin  remained  bright,  then 
they  knew  that  they  might  eat  them  without  fear.  I 
don't  know  if  the  test  be  sound  or  not  scientifically.  We 
put  Chile  dollars  in  the  pot  with  the  next  batches. 
They  always  turned  black.  After  two  or  three  attempts 
we  gave  up  gathering  shell-fish.  Even  if  the  coins  had 
kept  bright  we  should  have  been  afraid  of  them  after 
seeing  the  men  suffering  from  eating  them. 

"  Well,  we  picked  watches  that  night.     Some  of  us 

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kept  a  bright  look-out  by  the  fire  till  Saturday  morning. 
We  saw  nothing  of  any  ship.  Once  we  had  a  great  start 
thinking  we  heard  the  wash  of  a  steamer's  screws  some- 
where far  off  in  the  night  ;  but  it  was  nothing.  Two  of 
us  said  definitely  that  they  had  heard  a  ship  ;  a  third 
thought  that  it  was  like  a  ship's  screws,  but  that  it  came 
from  somewhere  in  the  land.  We  listened  with  our  ears 
close  to  the  water's  edge,  but  no  sound  came  along  the 
water.  Our  friends  had  been  mistaken.  Perhaps  they 
heard  a  little  fall  of  shale  from  one  of  the  cliffs,  or  perhaps 
a  big  sea-bird  or  flock  of  birds  swooped  into  the  sea  with 
that  rushing  scutter  which  sends  them  sliding  twenty 
yards  along  the  surface.  Anyhow,  it  was  not  a  ship's 
screws  which  they  heard.  You  know,  of  course,  how 
sound  travels  over  water  ?  Often  at  night,  especially  in 
clear  weather  before  rain,  when  sounds  travel  better 
than  at  other  times,  I  have  heard  quite  clearly  the  screws 
of  a  steamer  beating  past  far  away — so  far  away  that  her 
head-light,  which  ought  to  be  visible  for  five  miles  in 
clear  weather,  was  out  of  sight.  That  was  not  the  only 
start  we  had  during  those  watches.  A  shooting-star  fell 
low  down,  and  close  to  us  (as  it  seemed) — so  near  to  the 
water  that  those  who  saw  it  mistook  it  for  a  rocket. 
That  was  a  lively  alarm  while  it  lasted,  but  it  did  not 
last  long,  of  course.  We  very  soon  saw  that  we  were 
wrong.  After  that  nothing  happened  till  daylight  left 
us  all  free  to  turn  in. 

"  Saturday  was  not  so  hard  to  bear  as  Friday.  The 
first  disappointment  and  the  keeping  awake  all  night 
left  us  all  a  little  dull  and  stupid.  It  was  on  Sunday 
that  the  real  hardships  began,  for  then  we  began  to  look 

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at  each  other  to  see  if  anyone  were  going  to  be  brave 
enough  to  say  what  all  felt — that  we  Were  in  a  tight  fix, 
without  much  chance  of  getting  out  of  it.  The  Captain 
was  a  good  man.  He  called  us  all  up  to  him  after  mid- 
day dinner.  Probably  he  thought  that  we  should  all  be 
at  our  strongest  and  pluckiest  (as  men  are)  at  about  that 
hour.  He  was  an  elderly  man — sixty-five  or  so — married, 
with  a  family.  He  gave  us  a  lecture  on  the  situation 
which  did  him  credit.  He  had  lost  his  ship  ;  he  was 
hardly  likely  to  get  another  at  his  age,  even  if  we  ever 
reached  home  ;  he  had  more  home  ties  to  brood  over, 
and  a  harder  future  to  look  forward  to,  than  any  of  us. 
But  he  was  Captain  still ;  he  was  responsible  for  us.  I 
can't  remember  that  he  ever  showed  by  any  sign  that 
the  cards  were  against  us.  He  told  us  that,  although 
the  boat  had  not  returned,  we  were  not  to  give  up  hope 
on  that  account.  He  had  been  in  and  out  among  the 
Straits  for  thirty  years,  he  said.  If  any  man  knew  the 
Straits,  he  was  the  man.  He  had  been  lost  in  a  survey- 
ing cutter  in  them  for  three  days  in  the  early  sixties  (so 
he  said).  There  Was  therefore  no  sense  in  taking  on 
about  the  boat's  crew.  The  weather  had  been  fine,  for 
the  Straits,  ever  since  she  sailed.  We  were  to  pluck  up 
heart,  and  cross  no  rivers  till  We  came  to  the  water.  All 
the  same,  he  said,  we  Were  beginning  to  be  melancholy, 
which  was  a  sign  that  we  hadn't  enough  to  do.  He  had 
been  wrecked  before,  he  said  (on  the  coast  of  Hayti). 
I  remember  he  made  us  all  laugh  here  during  his  account 
of  the  wreck  by  telling  us  how  the  Captain  of  his  ship 
had  come  ashore  without  his  trousers.  He  said  that  on 
that   occasion  want   of   work  had   made   the   crew  very 

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melancholy,  so  that  there  had  been  a  lot  of  trouble — 
'  men  drowning  themselves,  and  silliness  of  that  sort.' 
He  wasn't  going  to  have  anything  of  that  kind  while  he 
commanded,  so  in  future  we  were  to  work.  The  usual 
work  of  the  camp — getting  fuel,  killing  birds,  keeping  the 
fire  going,  and  cooking — Was  not  enough  for  us.  He  was 
going  to  set  us  a  new  task,  which  he  meant  us  to  do. 
We  were  to  explore  along  the  shore  of  the  -Sound  till  we 
found  out  where  We  were.  We  Were  to  split  up  into 
parties  of  exploration.  One-third  of  the  company  was 
to  stay  in  camp  in  case  the  boat  should  return,  one-third 
was  to  go  up,  the  other  third  to  go  down,  the  Sound 
Each  exploring  party  was  to  travel  for  three  days  in  its 
particular  direction  before  returning  to  camp  to  report. 
The  parties  were  to  take  what  provisions  they  could. 
They  Were  to  have  their  share  of  the  awning,  so  that 
they  might  make  *  weather-cloths  '  or  wind-screens  in 
case  it  came  on  to  blow  ;  and,  lastly,  the  sooner  We  Were 
out  of  that  place  the  better,  so  let  us  all  cheer  up,  he 
said,  and  never  mind  the  rotten  rock,  but  step  out  boldly 
and  find  the  channel.  We  cheered  him  when  he  finished. 
Afterwards  we  drew  lots  to  decide  which  of  us  should 
go.  I  was  drawn  for  the  party  of  camp-keepers, 
unfortunately  for  myself.  The  Captain  was  quite  right. 
Want  of  work  does  make  shipwrecked  people  melancholy. 
Those  black  crags,  and  the  water  like  steel,  and  the 
flurries  of  snow  always  blowing  past — never  enough  to 
lie  more  than  an  inch,  if  as  much,  but  always  dusting 
down,  fine  and  dry,  on  that  dry  cold  wind  from  the  Pole. 
Ugh  !  that  was  a  horrid  place  !  It  lowered  at  one,  and 
almost  every  day  it  started  to  blow  a  short,  howling 

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south-wester  which  loosened  your  joints.  A  whirl  of 
snow  driving  everywhere  in  a  yell  of  wind  which  was 
like  death.  And  nothing  very  much  to  do  except  to  sit 
still  to  watch  the  snow  coming  from  the  Pole  on  the 
south-wester. 

"  Well,  at  last  I've  come  to  the  point  to  which  I  wanted 
to  come.  I  learned  then  that  I  had  wasted  my  time 
from  my  youth  up.  I  had  been  to  school — to  an  English 
school,  that  is — where  I  had  learned  to  play  cricket  and 
to  write  very  bad  Latin  verses.  I  had  been  for  about  a 
month  at  Oxford,  when  my  health  gave  way  ;  and  now, 
for  the  first  time,  I  was  face  to  face  with  something 
which  really  taxed  my  mind,  and  showed  me  where  I 
was  empty.  Some  of  my  education  had  given  me  a 
tough,  active  body  ;  another  part  of  it  had  made  me 
cheerful,  and  able  to  take  whatever  came  without 
grumbling  and  troubling  ;  but  when  I  came  to  overhaul 
my  mind  for  something  to  amuse  me  and  take  me  out 
of  myself,  I  found  that  I  had  very  little — less  even  than 
the  sailors.  The  sailors  knew  how  to  make  things  with 
their  hands  ;  they  knew  how  to  sing,  how  to  dance  step- 
dance,  and  how  to  endure.  Whatever  they  knew,  they 
knew  thoroughly.  It  was  a  part  of  their  lives.  What- 
ever I  knew,  I  knew  partially.  It  was  something  I  had 
read  in  a  book.  You  must  remember,  too,  that  I  was  a 
landsman — the  only  landsman  there.  I  was  rather  looked 
down  on  by  everybody. 

''Well,  I  had  to  find  my  amusement  in  myself ,  or  go 
melancholy  mad,  like  the  men  in  the  Captain's  story. 
I  set  to  work  to  imagine  my  home  in  the  country.  When- 
ever I  was  not  working  at  my  share  of  the  camp  duty,  I 

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was  imagining  the  country  which  I  knew  as  a  boy.  It 
was  nothing  very  wonderful,  of  course.  It  was  a  little 
piece  of  Shropshire  with  a  radius  of  about  three  miles,  more 
or  less.  But  it  was  England  and  home  and  whatever 
was  dear  to  me.  I  went  over  every  little  bit  of  it  time 
and  time  again.  I  tried  to  reconstruct  that  countryside 
in  every  detail,  to  make  it  real  to  my  mind,  so  that  I 
might,  as  it  were,  live  there,  or  imagine  myself  living 
there,  whenever  the  horror  of  Camp  Misery  became  too 
great.  I  had  lived  in  that  little  bit  of  the  world  for  all 
the  years  of  my  boyhood  ;  but  when  I  came  to  build  it 
up  in  my  mind,  so  as  to  rest  in  it,  there  was  so  much  that 
I  had  to  write  down  as  unexplored.  There  were  so  many 
blank  spaces,  fields  which  I  had  never  entered,  fields  with 
shapes  which  I  had  forgotten,  brooks  with  rapids  and 
shallows  which  I  could  not  place  correctly,  hedges  into 
which  I  had  never  looked,  animals  and  birds  which  I  had 
shot  at,  perhaps,  but  never  really  known  about.  That 
seemed  so  strange  to  me,  when  I  thought  of  it  in  Camp 
Misery — that  I  should  have  taken  those  creatures'  lives 
without  knowing  what  life  meant  to  them,  without  ever 
having  tried,  or  thought  of  trying,  to  get  at  each  strange 
little  atom  of  life,  so  different,  yet  so  alike.  I  made  up 
my  mind  then  and  there  that  if  I  ever  got  back  to  Eng- 
land I  would  not  waste  my  time  again.  I  would  look  at 
the  world  with  very  different  eyes  ;  I  would  never  forget, 
as  I  walked  about,  that  I  was  there  for  a  very  short  time  ; 
and  that  the  time  would  soon  be  over,  and  that  each 
instant  was  wonderful,  and  never  to  be  brought  back ; 
and  that  the  world  is  a  continual  miracle  to  be  looked 
at  earnestly,  and  remembered  and  read,  or  at  least  a 

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strain  made  to  read.  Each  little  bit  of  the  world  is 
beautiful  and  interesting  unspeakably.  I  vowed  that  I 
would  never  again  forget  that ;  I  vowed  that  I  would 
never  lose  an  opportunity  of  teaching  others  to  do  the 
same.  That  is  why  I  have  tried  to  show  you  a  little 
(only  a  very  little)  of  what  is  in  the  country  here.  I 
have  tried  to  make  you  look  closely  at  certain  parts 
of  it,  for  I  am  quite  sure  that  the  more  closely  you  look 
at  a  thing  the  more  interesting  it  will  become  to  you, 
and  the  more  interesting  it  becomes  to  you  the  brighter 
your  brains  will  get.  All  wisdom  and  all  progress  come 
from  just  that  faculty  of  looking  so  closely  at  a  thing 
that  one  can  see  its  meaning  as  well  as  its  appearance. 

"  Of  course,  when  I  had  once  fully  realised  all  this,  I 
was  much  happier  ;  but  for  a  full  dragging  week  I  did 
not  realise  it,  and  I  was  intensely  miserable  for  that  week. 
Miserable,  and  utterly  home-sick— so  home-sick  that  I 
could  feel  the  pull  of  England  in  my  body,  just  as  the 
compass-needle  feels  that  magnetic  something  away  in 
the  North.  I  could  turn  round  and  face  directly  to 
England  only  from  the  feel  inside  me.  I  believe  I  could 
have  steered  a  ship  straight  home  from  there  without 
once  looking  at  the  compass,  only  from  that  inner 
prompting. 

"  When  I  realised  that  I  had  wasted  my  time,  and 
that  I  must  never  do  so  again,  I  realised,  of  course,  that 
in  a  little  while,  perhaps  in  a  few  hours,  I  should  be 
away  from  that  place  for  ever  ;  that  if  a  ship  came  into 
the  Sound  I  should  go  on  board  her,  and  be  in  a  town 
of  men  within  a  day  and  a  half,  if  not  sooner,  and  I 
should  never  see  that  place  again.     Yet  it  might  be  that 

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in  England  or  elsewhere,  in  a  fit  of  loneliness,  or  during 
some  sorrow  or  anxiety,  I  might  long  for  that  place,  and 
wish  myself  back  there  among  the  rocks,  dusted  over 
with  the  snow,  near  the  grim  steel  of  the  Sound.  I  said 
to  myself  that  a  man's  moods  are  very  fickle.  Hate  is 
only  love  turned  upside  down.  Such  a  little  thing  will 
turn  or  kill  it.  I  might  love  my  memory  of  this  place 
within  the  year.  I  felt  that  it  was  my  duty  to  take  an 
exact  record  of  it,  so  that  in  after  years  I  might  never 
feel  that  I  had  failed  to  get  out  of  it  all  that  it  had  to 
teach  me  ;  so  that  I  might  not  rebuke  myself  when  a 
few  comfortable  weeks  at  home  had  turned  my  present 
hate  of  it  the  right  way  up.  And  when  I  came  to 
examine  it,  and  to  look  into  it  closely,  there  was  an 
infinity  of  beauty  and  interest  in  it.  I  began  to  puzzle 
out  to  myself  how  it  was  that  the  plants  and  creatures 
had  adapted  themselves  to  the  natural  conditions  there  ; 
why  the  moss  was  as  it  was  ;  why  the  seaweeds  were  as 
they  Were  ;  why  some  of  the  birds  had  longer  bills  than 
others  ;  and  what  the  rocks  had  been  long  ago,  before 
the  wear  of  the  weather  ground  them  down  with  its 
files." 


312 


Chapter  XXII 


7^^^.^^  II E  smiled  at  the  interest  in  the  boys' 

<  V      ^-  d  ^      I      faces,  and  twitted  Mac  with  want- 
ing to  go  to  sleep. 

"  Won't  you  go  on,  please,  sir  ?" 
said  Robin.  "  Did  the  exploring 
parties  get  lost,  too,  sir,  or  did  they 
find  the  way  out  ?" 

"  They  didn't  get  lost,"  said  Mr. 
Hampden,  "  but  they  didn't  find 
the  way  out.  They  came  back  half  frozen  and  half 
starved,  showing  symptoms  of  scurvy,  which  we  managed 
to  keep  under  with  a  sort  of  decoction  or  soup  from  the 
freshest  moss  which  we  could  find.  That,  and  a  few 
bents  from  a  sandbank,  were  the  only  medicine  we  had. 

"  I  went  out  on  the  next  search  expedition.  We  went 
about  twenty  miles  along  a  never-ending  wilderness  of 
inlets.  We  didn't  get  scurvy  ;  we  got  little  touches  of 
frost-bite.  We  didn't  find  anything,  except  on  the  last 
day  one  thing — a  little  cairn  of  stones  with  an  iron  bar 
sticking  out  of  it,  and  a  tin  box  tied  to  the  end  of  the 
bar.  Some  of  the  sailors  thought  that  it  was  the  mark 
of  some  shipwrecked  crew,  but  it  was  really  a  surveyor's 
mark.  It  had  been  there  for  years  and  years  evidently. 
We  opened  the  tin  box,  hoping  to  find  in  it  some  writing 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

from  civilised  people.  You  cannot  imagine  how  eagerly 
we  broke  it  open.  We  felt  like  people  rifling  the  tomb 
of  a  King  in  Egypt.  We  did  not  know  what  secret  might 
be  hidden  inside.  There  was  nothing  much  inside 
except  scraps  of  what  had  once  been  writing-paper 
smeared  with  what  had  once  been  ink.  All  quite  illegible. 
There  wasn't  even  enough  writing  left  to  let  us  guess  the 
date  of  the  writer.     Handwriting  changes  from  genera- 


"  '  A  little  cairn  of  stones.'  " 

tion  to  generation.  Some  day,  when  you  are  older,  you 
ought  to  study  the  changes  through  which  it  has  passed. 
It  will  teach  you  a  good  deal  more  than  you  think  if  you 
will  try  to  get  at  the  changes  in  mental  character  which 
the  changes  in  the  handwriting  reflect.  There  was 
nothing  else  in  the  box  except  a  queer  brass  '  anchor  ' 
button — that  is,  a  button  stamped  in  high  relief  with  an 
anchor.     British  naval  oflicers  have  worn  such  buttcns 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

since  some  time  in  the  eighteenth  century.  We  did  not 
know  how  old  this  particular  button  was ;  it  looked 
pretty  old-fashioned.     The  Captain  tossed  it  over  to  me. 

"  *  Here's  a  curiosity,'  he  said.  '  You  can  show  that 
to  your  society  friends  when  you  get  home.' 

"  I  brought  it  home.  I'll  show  it  to  you  some  day. 
Long  afterwards  I  showed  it  to  a  man  who  knows  about 
naval  costume.  He  said  it  was  of  a  kind  supplied  to 
naval  oihcers  about  the  year  1830.  That  gave  me  a 
clue,  of  course,  to  the  date  of  the  surveying-party,  so  I 
followed  it  up  at  the  Record  Ofifice.  The  survey  had 
been  made  by  the  officers  and  men  of  the  thirty-six-gun 
frigate  Alert  in  the  year  1832.  As  far  as  I  could  make 
out,  that  particular  cairn  had  been  built  by  a  party 
under  a  Lieutenant  Milsom,  who  was  killed  in  1839  i^  "^ 
brush  with  Chinese  pirates  off  Formosa.  Further  search 
in  the  records  brought  Lieutenant  Milsom's  reports  to 
light.  I  saw  his  handwriting.  I  was  able  to  guess  what 
kind  of  man  he  had  been.  I  read  in  a  dim,  rather  frowsy 
room  in  England  the  duplicate  of  the  writing  he  had 
shut  up  in  the  box  sixty  years  before,  more  than  six 
thousand  miles  away.  He  said  nothing  about  the  button. 
Whether  it  was  his,  or  whether  it  was  put  there  by  some- 
body else,  and  what  the  story  of  it  was,  I  shall  never 
know.  But  I  followed  up  Lieutenant  Milsom  from  ship 
to  ship  till  I  found  him  the  Commander  of  a  brig  on  the 
Chinese  coast  engaged  in  putting  down  pirates.  I  read 
the  reports  of  his  death  in  battle.  He  was  shot  down 
just  as  he  had  jumped  aboard  a  pirate  junk.  I  also  read 
copies  of  what  the  Admiral  wrote  to  Mrs.  Milsom  and -the 
Admiralty.      I  have  seen  the  memorial  tablet  put  up  to 

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Commander  Robert  Milsom  in  the  church  of  his  native 
village.  I  even  went  down  to  the  country  to  see  descen- 
dants of  that  Commander  playing  in  a  garden.  I'm 
afraid  I  looked  over  the  garden  wall  at  them ;  and  then, 
plucking  up  my  courage,  or  what  you  would  call  my 
cheek,  I  went  to  the  house-door,  asked  for  the  present 
Mrs.  Milsom  (grand-daughter-in-law  of  my  man,  wife  of 
his  grandson),  told  her  my  story,  and  was  shown  Robert 
Milsom's  portrait.  He  was  a  dark,  soldierly-looking  man 
with  something  stern  about  his  mouth.  Some  queer 
lift  of  the  upper  lip.  Perhaps  it  was  due  to  the  badness 
of  the  painter.  It  was  a  stiff,  grim,  unnatural  kind  of 
portrait.  The  figure  looked  like  a  waxwork  pirate. 
Still,  I  was  glad  to  have  seen  it.  It  taught  me  what  a 
lot  of  interest  can  sometimes  be  drawn  out  of  a  button." 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  Mac,  "  weren't  you  able  to  make 
out  from  the  position  of  the  cairn  whereabouts  the  open 
sea  or  the  channel  ought  to  be  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  "  we  couldn't,  for  the  very 
good  reason  that  we  were  still  on  the  wrong  side  of  the 
Sound,  and  we  found  afterwards  that  the  Sound  reached 
on  inland  thirty  miles  from  the  farthest  point  reached  by 
our  explorers,  so  that  it  would  have  taken  us  a  good  five 
or  six  days  farther  tramp  to  get  round  it  to  the  side  from 
which  we  could  see  the  channel.  We  had  been  wrecked 
most  miraculously  in  the  most  awkward  possible  place 
the  ship  could  have  chosen  for  us.  If  we  had  not  been 
picked  up  by  another  miraculous  chance  we  should  have 
left  our  bones  there." 

"  And  how  did  you  get  away,  sir  ?"  asked  Robin, 
sitting  up,  in  a  moment's  burst  of  youth,  to  fling  a  stone 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

at  the  topmost  twig  of  a  gorse-bush.  "  Hit  it  !"  he 
exclaimed,  as  he  relapsed.  **  You  couldn't  do  that  first 
shot,  Mac.  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  he  added.  "  I  just 
wanted  to  see  if  I  could  hit  that  spray.  How  did  you 
get  away,  sir  ?" 

"  It  was  very  curious,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  **  The  day 
before  we  went  ashore,  one  of  the  hands  had  been  set  to 
put  new  life-lines  on  the  life-buoys,  of  which,  of  course, 
we  carried  several.  They  were  hung  about  the  ship  in 
handy  places.  Well,  as  he  worked  upon  them  he  stood 
at  the  ship's  side,  with  *his  spun-yarn  and  line  on  the  rail 
in  front  of  him,  and  the  life-buoy  all  handy,  hung  up 
upon  a  belaying-pin.  The  belaying-pin  in  question  hap- 
pened to  be  the  pin  to  which  the  signal  halliards  were 
belayed.  As  the  man  worked,  he  happened  to  glance 
up.  He  noticed  that  the  halliards  had  got  what  is 
called  '  turns  '  in  them — that  is,  the  two  parts  were  so 
twisted  together  that  there  was  certain  to  be  a  great 
deal  of  delay  when  next  we  wanted  to  signal  to  a  ship. 
So  he  took  the  life-buoy  off  the  pin,  laid  it  on  the  rail  for 
a  moment,  and  began  to  clear  the  halliards  by  untwisting 
the  turns.  The  next  instant  he  had  managed  to  knock 
the  life-buoy  overboard.  He  took  a  glance  up  and  down 
to  make  sure  that  the  loss  had  not  been  seen,  and  then 
went  on  with  another  life-buoy  as  though  nothing  had 
happened.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  a  great  deal  had  hap- 
pened, for  he  had  saved  all  our  lives  merely  by  knocking 
that  life-buoy  overboard.  The  life-buoy  had  the  name 
of  the  ship  Inesita  painted  upon  it.  While  it  floated  it 
was  a  sort  of  advertisement  of  us.  Anybody  who  found 
that  life-buoy   would  say  to  himself  :   *  Yes  ;   the  ship 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

Inesita  has  passed  this  way,  and  something  strange  has 
happened  on  board  her.  Either  she  has  sunk,  or  a  man 
has  fallen  overboard  from  her,  probably  in  bad  weather, 
since  they  haven't  picked  up  the  buoy.'  Then  at  the 
next  port  the  finder  of  the  buoy  would  report  the  matter, 
and  give  the  latitude  and  longitude  of  the  spot  where 
the  buoy  was  found,  with  some  account  of  the  finding, 
the  date,  the  state  of  the  weather,  and  the  condition  of 
the  buoy,  whether  soaked  and  ready  to  sink,  or  apparently 
newly  immersed.  If  the  Inesita  were  missing,  or  so 
delayed  in  reaching  port  that  one  might  conclude  her 
to  be  sunk,  these  details  would  give  a  clue  to  the  site 
of  the  disaster,  so  that,  if  a  search-party  were  sent  to 
look  for  her,  the  seekers  might  know  where  to  begin 
their  search. 

"  The  Inesita  ran  ashore  the  day  after  leaving  Punta 
Arenas.  She  was  bound  through  the  Straits  to  a  place 
called  Coronel,  in  Southern  Chile.  While  at  Punta 
Arenas  she  lay  at  moorings  near  a  ship  called  the  Chiloe, 
which  was  about  to  sail  through  the  Straits  for  the  same 
place  when  we  left  the  port.  I  suppose  she  started  some 
twelve  hours  after  us.  Quite  by  chance  her  look-out 
man  saw  our  lost  life-buoy  bobbing  in  the  sea.  He 
reported  it  to  the  officer  of  the  watch,  who  had  it  fished 
on  board.  When  the  officer  saw  that  it  was  the  Inesita  s 
buoy  he  reported  it  to  his  Captain,  who  came  on  deck  at 
once.  It  had  been  very  blind,  squally  weather.  It  was 
a  very  blind,  bad  part  of  the  Straits.  Anyone  finding  a 
buoy  in  such  circumstances  would  have  jumped  to  the 
conclusion  that  something  was  seriously  wrong.  A  few 
minutes  later  it  happened  that  the  Captain  of  the  Chiloe 

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A    Book    of  Discoveries 

saw  what  he  took  to  be  drifting  wreckage — a  cask,  and 
a  half-submerged  case  or  two,  which  looked  like  a  water- 
logged boat  or  floating  hen-coop.  His  mate  said  that  it 
was  undoubtedly  ship's  wreckage,  and  added  that  *  it 
looked  like  the  smash-up  of  the  Inesita.'  They  agreed 
that  they  had  better  poke  about  a  bit  to  see  what  evidence 


" '  One  of  the  bad  Straits  squalls.'  " 

they  could  find.     They  sent  a  man  aloft  to  the  crow's- 
nest  to  look  out  for  boats  and  survivors. 

"  And  then  down  came  one  of  the  bad  Straits  squalls, 
yelling  like  a  battle.  It  gave  them  plenty  to  think  of 
for  the  next  hour  or  two.  As  for  seeing  through  it,  that 
was  impossible.     One  couldn't  see  ten  yards  from  the 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

ship,  nor  hear  a  hail  nor  a  signal.  The  current  happened 
to  run  strong  against  them  in  that  part  of  the  Straits. 
What  with  the  wind  blowing  the  snow  into  their  eyes, 
and  tearing  off  the  tops  of  the  waves  to  fling  them,  as 
they  froze,  over  their  heads,  and  the  worst  bit  of  the 
Straits  ahead,  those  officers  had  no  time  to  think  of  the 
Inesita.  They  had  to  use  all  their  wits  to  make  a  head 
against  the  storm,  and  to  win  through  to  safety.  When 
the  squall  blew  over  there  was  no  trace  of  the  Inesita  s 
wreckage.  What  had  been  mistaken  for  it  lay  ten  miles 
astern. 

'*  The  Chiloe  continued  her  passage  westward.  She 
'  spoke  '  a  French  tramp-steamer  the  next  day,  and  told 
her  to  look  out  for  the  Inesita  s  crew  in  the  place  where 
the  buoy  had  been  picked  up.  When  the  Chiloe  reached 
Coronel  she  reported  the  finding  of  the  buoy,  and  the 
sighting  of  floating  wreckage.  People  concluded  that 
'  something  had  happened,'  and  that  we  were  all  drowned. 
Somebody  cabled  it  to  England,  and  a  distorted  line 
about  it  got  into  the  papers.  People  who  knew  me  said 
that  it  was  a  judgment  on  me  for  going  in  a  ship  which 
was  not  a  liner,  only  a  big  sea-tramp,  going  wherever  she 
was  paid  to  go.  They  gave  me  up  for  lost,  and  wondered 
whether  they  ought  to  order  mourning.  Now  the  cable 
said  definitely  that  the  loss  of  the  Inesita  was  '  feared,' 
not  certain.  The  journalists  distorted  it,  as  I  am  afraid 
journalists  very  often  do,  through  sheer  carelessness,  and 
through  that  want  of  preciseness  which  mars  the  Work  of 
hurried  people  all  the  world  over.  They  said  that  she 
had  gone  to  pieces  on  the  rocks,  and  that  *  the  fate  of  the 
crew  had  awakened  the  liveliest  forebodings.*     And  if 

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the  journalists  had  not  been  careless,  it  is  possible  that 
nothing  would  have  been  done.  We  might  have  been 
left  to  our  fates. 

**  But  an  elderly  lady— a  very  good,  energetic  soul — a 
great  friend  of  mine,  saw  the  announcement,  and,  as  luck 
would  have  it,  she  had  just  been  reading  the  story  of  a 
party  of  Spaniards  who  came  to  grief  in  the  Straits  in 
the  sixteenth  century.  They  had  built  a  fort  there,  so 
that  they  might  bar  the  Straits  to  the  English.  But  the 
fort  was  a  failure  from  the  first.  Some  of  the  Spaniards 
mutinied,  and  got  themselves  hanged  ;  others  died  of 
starvation  or  of  sickness.  The  whole  thing  came  to  ruin, 
while,  as  for  stopping  the  English,  it  did  nothing  of  the 
kind.  The  English  learned  that  there  were  two  other 
ways  to  the  Pacific — round  the  Horn  and  over  the  Isthmus 
of  Panama.  Well,  this  kind  friend  of  mine  wondered  if  I 
had  got  ashore  by  any  chance.  She  had  a  great  belief  in 
my  luck,  and  she  felt  that  I  would  have  got  ashore  if 
there  had  been  any  sort  of  chance  of  it  at  all.  And  she 
wondered  whether  I  were  there  like  the  Spaniards,  with 
a  crowd  of  starving,  dying  seamen  ;  and  the  more  she 
wondered,  the  surer  she  became  that  that  was  what  was 
happening.  She  felt  quite  sure  at  last  that  I  was  alive 
there  somewhere,  living  on  shell-fish,  watching  for  a  ship. 
She  cabled  to  the  British  Consul  at  Punta  Concha,  but 
the  Consul  could  tell  her  nothing  further.  No  further 
traces  of  the  Inesita  had  been  found.  Ships  had  passed 
along  her  course  almost  every  day,  finding  no  trace.  In 
his  opinion,  the  Inesita  had  sunk  with  all  hands.  Men 
who  knew  the  Straits  said  the  same.  We  were  *  posted 
as  missing,'  and  my  relatives  ordered  mourning. 

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A    Book    of    Discoveries 

"  But  not  my  good  friend.  She  was  quite  certain  that 
I  was  ahve  somewhere.  She  came  up  to  London,  and 
set  to  work  on  the  charts  of  the  Straits  to  see  where  I 
might  have  got  to.  A  nephew  of  hers,  a  young  naval 
officer,  helped  her  with  them,  telling  her  at  the  same 
time  of  all  the  possible  accidents  which  might  have 
happened  to  us.  They  had  the  position  of  the  Chiloe 
when  she  found  the  life-buoy,  the  set  of  the  current,  and 
.  .  .  that  was  all  they  had  to  go  upon.  Or  not  quite  all. 
An  eastward-bound  steamer,  which  ought  to  have  passed 
the  Inesita  near  the  mouth  of  the  Straits,  reported  that 
she  had  seen  no  sign  of  us.  So  that  put  the  scene  of  the 
disaster,  if  there  had  been  one,  between  the  mouth  of  the 
Straits  and  the  place  where  the  life-buoy  had  been  found. 
They  reckoned  that  the  exact  spot  would  be  about  twelve 
miles  West  of  the  spot  where  the  life-buoy  had  been  found. 
Their  next  move  was  to  look  up  the  old  logs  of  Captain 
Haines,  of  the  Inesita,  so  as  to  find  out  the  course  he 
usually  took  in  going  through.  The  move  after  that  was 
to  decide  what  ought  to  be  done  to  find  out  if  there  were 
any  survivors.  The  young  Lieutenant  said  :  '  Cable  to 
the  Consul  at  Punta  Concha.  Tell  him  to  send  out  a  tug 
to  explore.' 

"  But  for  some  reason  this  lady  had  taken  a  prejudice 
against  the  Consul.  Something  in  his  former  cable  made 
her  suspect  that  he  was  not  seriously  interested.  It  was 
very  shrewd  of  her.  The  man's  cable  only  contained 
about  a  dozen  words,  yet  his  choice  of  words  made  her 
think  that  he  was  not  concerned.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
he  was  alone  at  the  office,  and  seriously  ill.  That  is  an 
instance  of  a  woman's  swiftness  of  perception.     It  is  a 

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talent  or  quality  unlike  anything  which  men  have.  It  is 
a  quality  which  makes  me  inclined  to  take  off  my  hat  to 
every  woman  I  pass.  It  decided  my  friend  against 
cabling  to  the  Consul.  She  Was  puzzled  and  harassed, 
but  she  decided  that  she  would  not  cable.  Meanwhile, 
she  had  been  slaving  all  day  without  proper  food,  and 
she  was  tired  out.  She  went  back  to  her  friend's  house 
and  went  to  bed. 

*'  In  the  night  she  had  an  extremely  vivid  dream  of 
me  standing  at  the  edge  of  the  sea  looking  out  towards 
England,  with  a  mass  of  desolate  rocks  behind  me  all 
white  with  snow.  The  dream  was  so  vivid  that  she  got 
out  of  bed  and  went  and  called  her  friend  to  tell  her  that 
she  was  quite  sure  that  I  was  still  alive  ;  that  she  had 
seen  me,  and  that  I  was  alive,  though  very  pale.  There 
Were  other  men  besides  myself  in  the  dream,  and  in  some 
way  the  dream  showed  her  that  we  had  food.  But  the 
horror  of  the  place  in  the  dream  impressed  her  so  strongly 
that  she  cabled  to  the  Consul  the  next  morning,  urging 
him  to  equip  a  tug  at  once  a  ther  cost  to  go  in  search  of 
us,  and  to  cable  that  he  had  done  so.  On  second  thoughts 
it  occurred  to  her  that  there  might  not  be  a  tug  at  that 
outlandish  place,  so  she  sent  a  second  cable  bidding  him 
equip  a  sailing-boat — any  boat  at  all,  or  search-party — 
without  losing  a  minute.  She  also  cabled  him  some  con- 
siderable sum  of  money,  so  that  he  could  do  this.  She 
waited  for  the  rest  of  the  day  at  her  friend's  house, 
eagerly  expecting  an  answer,  reckoning  up  the  possible 
delays  in  transit  owing  to  the  transfers  from  cable  to 
cable.  In  those  days  there  was  no  direct  cable.  Mes- 
sages had  to  be  passed  from  port  to  port  at  a  cost  of  five 

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or  six  shillings  a  word.  No  answer  had  come  by  tea-time, 
so  she  went  to  the  Embassy,  and  got  them  to  cable  for 
her.  She  learned  the  next  day,  through  the  Embassy, 
that  the  Consul  at  Punta  Concha  was  ill;  too  ill  to 
attend  to  business.  For  the  rest;  they  were  very  civil 
and  obliging,  but  could  do  nothing,  '  only  the  matter 
should  not  be  lost  sight  of.'  She  had  had  some  experi- 
ence of  the  ways  of  Embassies  years  before,  when  anxious 
about  a  friend  in  Paris  during  the  Revolution  of  the  Com- 
mune. She  decided  that  nothing  could  be  done  through 
them  in  this  case.  No  answers  had  come  to  her  original 
cables,  and  every  minute  lost  was  frightful  to  her.  She 
was  quite  certain  that  I  was  alive  there,  with  other  men, 
and  the  feeling  that  she  could  do  nothing  at  all  to  help 
me,  and  that  if  she  did  nothing  it  might  soon  be  too  late, 
was  more  than  she  could  bear.  The  naval  officer  had 
gone  off  to  the  Admiralty  to  try  to  find  out  if  the  Board 
could  do  anything  through  their  station  at  Coquimbo. 
She  was  left  alone  with  her  worry. 

"  Early  in  the  afternoon  she  decided  that  she  could 
bear  it  no  longer.  She  made  up  her  mind  that  she  would 
come  herself  to  find  me.  She  obtained  a  sum  of  money, 
found  out  that  she  could  catch  the  Liverpool  mail-boat 
when  it  called  at  Plymouth  for  the  London  passengers, 
telegraphed  for  a  berth  in  it,  raked  together  what  warm 
clothes  she  could  buy  in  the  time,  and  started  directly 
she  heard  that  the  Admiralty  had  no  ship  available.  At 
Plymouth  the  agents  of  the  steamship  company  told  her 
that  the  ship  was  full.  Those  were  the  days  of  the  great 
South  American  boom.  The  ships  went  out  from  Eng- 
land crammed  with  people  bound  for  the  Argentine,  Chile. 

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and  Peru.  This  particular  ship,  the  Las  Casas,  was  full 
to  the  hatches  ;  there  was  no  room  even  in  the  steerage. 
Not  a  berth  in  her  was  to  be  had  for  money.  However, 
my  friend  was  not  easily  daunted.  She  hired  a  boat, 
piled  her  trunks  aboard  it,  and  put  out  to  meet  the 
steamer,  which  was  due  to  arrive  there  to  pick  up  the 
London  passengers  about  midnight.  It  was  blowing 
pretty  fresh,  with  a  good  deal  of  rain,  but  she  was  deter- 
mined not  to  put  back  till  something  had  been  done.  A 
man  would  have  gone  to  a  hotel  and  smoked  by  the  fire, 
but  my  friend  was  not  like  that.  She  knew  that  the  ship 
might  only  stay  an  hour  there,  or  less  even  if  there  were 
no  hitch.     She  was  going  to  run  no  risks. 

"  Presently  the  Las  Casas  came  into  the  harbour.  She 
had  had  a  battering  outside,  for  a  big  sea  was  running. 
My  friend  ran  alongside  as  she  came  to  moorings,  and 
they  lowered  a  gangway  for  her  and  picked  her  up.  She 
said  that  she  wanted  to  see  the  Captain.  The  Captain 
was  very  busy,  but  it  is  the  custom  of  this  world  to  let 
the  people  who  really  want  a  thing  with  their  might  and 
main  to  have  what  they  want,  if  only  they  keep  on  long 
enough.  Presently  the  Captain  came  along  fuming  at 
being  disturbed,  and  very  well  inclined  to  be  rude.  He 
was  an  old-fashioned  kind  of  sailor,  who  had  been  Captain 
of  a  passenger  ship  long  enough  to  make  him  think  that 
he  might  be  rude  when  he  pleased  to  any  person  even 
dimly  resembling  a  passenger.  On  the  whole,  he  was 
justified.  Passengers  are  not  human  beings,  like  you  and 
me.  They  are  a  race  of  creatures  strongly  resembling 
sheep.  Well,  he  came  down  fuming  from  his  chart  room, 
and  she  told  him  her  story  there  and  then  in  a  sort  of 

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stair-head  space  just  outside  the  purser's  cabin.  She 
asked  him  to  take  her  on  board,  offering  to  pay  almost 
any  sum  for  a  berth  if  one  could  be  found — any  berth,  a 
stewardess's  berth  or  one  of  the  officers'  cabins.  But  no. 
It  could  not  be  done,  he  said.  Money  was  no  object  ; 
the  ship  was  full.  He  wouldn't  take  another  soul  aboard 
if  the  Queen  herself  wanted  a  passage.  That  was  his  last 
word,  he  said,  and  he  was  a  busy  man.  He  couldn't  stay 
there  talking  ;  he  had  a  lot  to  see  to.  So  away  he  went, 
grumbling  about  a  lot  of  silly  women  wanting  to  throw 
the  ship  overboard.  He  left  my  friend  aghast.  She  sat 
down,  not  knowing  what  to  do,  for  the  boats  in  those 
days  only  ran  once  a  week,  and  a  week's  delay  might  be 
the  end  of  everything.  Presently  her  boatman  came  up 
grumbling  to  ask  if  she  were  soon  coming  to  tell  him  what 
to  do  with  her  trunks.  He  wanted  to  be  gone  from  that. 
He  was  wet  through,  and  the  boat  was  taking  in  water, 
for  out  there  at  the  moorings  it  was  bad  weather  for  any 
boat.  So  she  told  him  to  bring  her  trunks  on  board  and 
go.  She  gave  him  a  sovereign  for  his  trouble.  I  don't 
know  why  they  let  her  trunks  come  on  board,  but  in  the 
confusion  they  did.  The  boatman  left  them  and  went. 
When  he  had  gone  she  realised  that  she  would  be  in  a 
tight  place  if  the  Captain  should  prove  a  tartar.  She 
saw  herself  being  flung  out  of  the  ship  into  the  tug  which 
had  brought  the  London  passengers  alongside,  for  she 
knew  very  well  that  the  tug  would  not  cast  off  till  the 
ship  had  been  cleared.  However,  she  had  twenty  minutes 
or  so  in  which  to  think  of  a  plan. 

"  Presently    an    elderly    stewardess    came    past.     My 
friend  says  that  the  instant  that  stewardess  appeared  she 

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knew  that  she  had  come  to  get  her  out  of  her  trouble. 
She  just  rose  up  and  said,  '  Stewardess,  might  I  speak  to 
you  for  a  minute  ?'  and  the  thing  was  done.  I  am 
ashamed  to  think  how  much  it  may  have  cost  her,  but 
she  bribed  that  stewardess  to  give  up  her  post.  Within 
the  next  quarter  of  an  hour  they  had  settled  everything. 
They  had  changed  clothes.  The  stewardess  had  told  her 
of  her  duties  and  shown  her  roughly  the  map  of  the  ship, 
and  where  things  could  be  found.  She  had  introduced 
her  to  a  friend  (another  stewardess),  who  promised  to 
help  in  every  way  she  could,  and  she  had  talked  it  over 
with  the  head-steward,  to  whom  my  friend  promised  five 
pounds  if  he  would  help  her.  The  real  stewardess  had 
only  just  time  to  get  off  the  ship  before  the  bell  rang  for 
the  tug  to  leave.  Five  minutes  later  the  Las  Casus  was 
out  of  the  harbour,  butting  into  the  heart  of  the  channel, 
with  spray  coming  over  her  in  sheets.  My  friend  was 
running  about  from  passenger  to  passenger  with  tea  and 
lemonade  and  ice.  She  had  practically  no  rest  until 
the  ship  left  Lisbon.  After  the  ship  left  Lisbon,  when 
my  friend  knew  that  she  could  not  be  put  ashore,  she 
went  boldly  up  and  told  the  Captain  what  she  had  done. 
There  Was  a  scene.  At  first  he  vowed  that  he  would 
make  her  work  the  full  passage  to  Valparaiso.  He  was 
not  going  to  be  cheated  out  of  a  stewardess  in  that  way. 
As  for  the  real  stewardess,  she  should  never  serve  that 
line  again.  He  would  report  her  to  the  Board.  He 
would  have  her  arrested  for  *  signing  on  ' — that  is, 
joining  the  ship's  company — and  then  decamping  ;  while, 
as  for  my  friend,  she  should  not  go  out  of  the  ship 
till   they   reached  Valparaiso.     She  was   there  on   false 

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pretences  ;  she  was  a  stowaway  ;  she  was  this,  that,  and 
the  other.  At  last  my  friend  told  him  frankly  that, 
among  other  things,  she  was  a  lady,  and  meant  to  be 
treated  as  one.  Soon  after  that  the  Captain  was  her  very 
devoted  humble  servant,  laughing  with  her  at  the  trick 
she  had  played  him,  and  admiring  her  pluck  and  energy. 
He  offered  her  a  berth,  for  one  was  now  vacant,  but  she 
refused  to  take  it.  She  would  be  a  stewardess,  she  said, 
as  far  as  the  River  Plate.  At  Monte  Video,  at  the  mouth 
of  that  river,  she  hoped  to  get  some  good  Welsh  or 
English  woman  to  take  her  place  on  from  there  to  the 
Straits. 

"  She  did  her  work  very  honestly.  She  was  considered 
a  model  stewardess.  Passengers  leaving  the  ship  at  the 
various  ports  of  call  in  Brazil  and  the  Argentine  gave 
her  handsome  tips  (some  two  pounds  in  money,  as  well 
as  much  cast-off  clothing).  At  Monte  Video  she  engaged 
a  substitute,  but  she  would  not  leave  her  work  till  the 
day  she  left  the  ship  at  Punta  Concha.  She  was  afraid 
that  there  might  be  something  like  a  mutiny  among  the 
passengers  if  their  stewardess  Were  suddenly  to  become  a 
passenger  among  them  ;  so  she  worked  honestly  and  well 
till  one  dull  morning,  only  thirty-four  days  after  the 
Inesita  went  ashore,  she  landed  alone  at  a  port  at  the 
end  of  the  world,  with  a  hundred  and  eighty  miles  of  sea, 
rock,  and  glacier  between  her  and  my  probable  where- 
abouts. She  landed  quietly  in  a  little  gloomy  Magellan 
port,  where  a  prison  and  a  Consul's  office  stood  out  big 
above  a  lot  of  shanties  and  dockside  clutter.  She  stood 
there  and  watched  the  Las  Casus  straighten  into  her  stride 
again  on  her  course  through  the  Straits  to  the  Pacific. 

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Chapter  XXIII 


ELL,  there  is  no  need  to  make  a 
longer  tale  of  it.  She  went  to 
work  at  once,  set  people  mdving, 
and  got  them  interested.  She 
learned  that  a  sailing-cutter  out 
in  the  harbour  was  bound  through 
the  Straits  in  two  days.  She 
went  aboard  her,  and  paid  the 
Captain  to  sail  two  days  earlier 
than  he  had  planned.  In  three  days  from  then  the 
cutter  discovered  the  inlet  into  which  the  Inesita  had 
found  her  way.  How  in  the  world  a  big  ship  like  that 
got  through  such  a  passage  without  striking  was  more 
than  we  could  understand  when  we  came  through  it  on 
our  way  out." 

"  How  did  you  feel,  sir,"  asked  Robin,  ''  when  you 
saw  her  coming  round  the  coast  ?  Weren't  you  awfully 
excited  ?" 

"  Not  very  excited,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  ''  We  had 
thought  of  it  so  often,  in  so  many  different  ways,  that, 
when  it  came,  when  we  really  saw  the  cutter  coming  up 
to  us,  we  were  not  much  excited — not  so  much  as  I  had 
thought  we  should  be.  We  were  a  little  dazed,  perhaps, 
and  in  our  hearts  I  think  we  were  one  and  all  a  little  sore 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

about  it.  That  place  had  been  home  to  us  for  all  those 
days.  When  it  came  to  the  point  of  leaving  it  behind 
for  ever  it  cost  us  a  wrench  or  two.  One  old  seaman, 
who  had  often  talked  of  his  loathing  for  the  place,  telling 
us  how  he  would  never  be  such  a  fool  as  to  come  to  sea 
again  if  ever  he  once  got  out  of  it,  was  unwilling  to  leave. 
He  wandered  about  growling  to  the  other  men  that  they 
were  fools  to  want  to  leave  a  place  where  they  hadn't  to 
work  at  *  pully  hauly,*  getting  somebody  else's  ship  from 
port  to  port  for  three  pounds  a  month  and  hard  knocks. 
Why  couldn't  they  be  content,  he  asked,  when  they  had 
'  all  night  in  ' — that  is,  no  watches  to  stand — and  as 
much  fresh  water  as  they  could  use  ?  He  seemed  to 
hesitate  about  going  in  the  boat  when  it  came  to  us,  but 
two  of  the  men  enticed  him  on  board  by  telling  him  they 
would  give  him  some  tobacco.  The  first  person  whom  T 
met  when  I  got  on  board  was  my  friend.  She  was  lean- 
ing over  the  bulwarks,  watching  the  boat  come  alongside. 
She  was  wearing  a  kind  of  sea-helmet  or  woollen  face- 
protector  which  covers  the  cheeks.  I  didn't  recognise 
her  at  first.  When  I  did  recognise  her,  I  had  no  words 
with  which  to  thank  her.  That  was  the  only  discovery  in 
which  I  myself  was  much  concerned.  She  discovered  me, 
and  I  discovered  what  her  friendship  was  worth.  I  dis- 
covered more  than  that,  though — I  discovered  how  inter- 
esting the  world  is.  That  is  why  I  want  you  to  make  the 
same  discovery  while  you  are  still  free  to  make  it.  By- 
and-by,  when  your  life's  work  begins  to  cramp  your 
leisure,  it  may  be  too  late.  So  now  to  work  at  your 
chart  again.  Here's  a  watch-chain  compass  to  help 
you." 

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He  took  from  his  watch-chain  a  neat  gun-metal  com- 
pass a  Httle  bigger  than  a  halfpenny. 

"  You  had  better  take  charge  of  this  till  the  chart  is 
done.     Now  away  with  you." 

Some  days  after  the  beginning  ot  the  chart  the  boys 
had  worked  downstream  as  far  as  the  sandstone  cliff. 
The  chart  had  progressed  swiftly  in  that  fine  weather. 
The  promised  sovereign  seemed  to  come  nearer  to  tlie 
boys  every  day.  The  work  was  pleasant  work.  Robin 
showed  a  marked  genius  for  it.  He  took  his  notes  and 
bearings  in  a  pocket-book  upon  the  small  scale  suggested 
by  Mr.  Hampden,  and  then  set  them  down  in  the  evening 
on  an  enlarged  scale  upon  a  big  sheet  of  cartridge-paper. 
He  had  a  slight  but  undeveloped  talent  for  drawing, 
which  helped  him  to  keep  his  work  scrupulously  clean 
and  tidy.  Mac  was  only  good  at  rowing  the  boat  and 
sounding.  He  was  also  often  eager  to  leave  the  work 
altogether,  so  that  they  might  walk  to  Brown  Willy  or 
try  a  new  bathing-place.  Robin  could  only  keep  him 
at  chart-making  by  refusing  to  go  with  him  to  any  other 
amusement. 

On  the  day  on  which  the  boys  reached  the  sandstone 
cliff  Mr.  Hampden  strolled  up  the  other  bank  to  watch 
them  at  their  work. 

"  Pretty  deep  there  ?"  he  called. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Mac,  leaning  over  the  boat's  nose  to 
sound.     "  It's  over  six  feet  in  the  middle." 

"  It's  one  of  our  best  bathing-places,"  said  Robin. 
"  You  can  get  a  clinking  good  dive,  sir,  off  the  bank  where 
you're  standing,  if  you  give  a  good  sort  of  a  jump  out." 

"  What  is  it^up  by  the  cliff  ?"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  We've  not  sounded  yet,  sir,"  said  Robin  ;  "  but  it's 
shallower  there.  The  stone  of  the  cliff  juts  out  a  bit,  so 
that  you  can  stand." 

"  Curious,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  *'  Generally  a  straight 
up  and  down  cliff,  rising  sheer  out  of  the  water  like  that, 
is  a  sign  that  the  water  at  its  foot  will  be  deep  ;  and  if 
the  bank  seems  to  shelve  down  into  the  water,  it's  a  sign 
that  the  water  thereabouts  will  be  shallow.  At  least, 
that  is  how  the  sailors  judge  of  the  depth  of  water  near 
a  coast." 

He  looked  at  the  cliff  curiously,  wondering  what  strange 
freak  of  tortured  Nature  had  put  it  there.  What  was 
that  water-carved  block  of  sandstone  doing  alone  there, 
so  many  miles  from  its  friends  ?  He  noticed  the  curious 
hole  in  the  cliff  a  little  downstream  from  where  the 
boat  lay.  He  had  noticed  it  before,  but  never  with  any 
interest. 

"  And  what  is  the  hole  in  the  rock  there  ?"  he 
asked. 

*'  Oh,  just  a  hole,  sir,"  said  Mac. 

"  I  see  it  is,"  said  Mr.  Hampden  dryly.  "  Did  you 
never  find  out  what  is  inside  it  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Robin.  "  We've  bunged  a  few  stones 
in,  because  we  thought  there  might  be  owls  there,  but  I 
don't  think  there  are." 

"  There  were  jackdaws  there  one  year,"  said  Mac, 
"  and  starlings  another  year.  We  could  hear  them  in- 
side, but  we  couldn't  g^t  at  them.  I  shouldn't  wonder 
if  there  were  kingfishers.  And  one  year  we  thought 
there  might  be  a  way  down  from  the  top  for  foxes  to 
burrow   through.     There    was   a   sort    of   smell   of    fox 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

But  we  couldn't  get  very  near  the  edge  because  of  the 
brambles  and  stuff  making  it  so  thick." 

"  It's  a  curious  hole,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  *'  Just 
bring  the  boat  over  here,  will  you  ?  I  want  to  have  a 
look  at  the  cliff  myself  to  see  .  .  .  what  there  is  to  see.' 

He  jumped  nimbly  into  the  very  centre  of  the  boat's 
stern-sheets  as  Mac  backed  her  in.  Nothing  shows  the 
extent  of  a  man's  knowledge  of  the  sea  like  his  way  of 
getting  into  a  boat.  There  are  so  many  ways.  But  the 
right  way  is  not  to  be  imitated.  It  comes  of  long  practice 
on  many  moving  stages.  It  can  only  be  done  properly 
by  those  who  have  done  it  in  places  where  to  do  it  wrongly 
is  to  risk  the  lives  of  others.  Mr.  Hampden  jumped  with 
such  absolute  control  of  his  body  and  absolute  judgment 
of  the  place  to  land  on,  that  any  seeing  eye  would  have 
set  him  down  as  a  sailor  from  that  one  thing  alone. 

"  What  do  you  think  could  be  in  it,  sir  ?"  said  Mac. 

At  the  moment  he  was  more  sensitive  to  romantic 
possibilities  than  Robin,  being  a  good  deal  idler.  He 
was  very  glad  of  some  excuse,  even  a  bad  excuse,  for 
stopping  the  work  of  chart-making. 

"  I  don't  know  what  could  be  in  it,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 
**  Many  things  might  be.     Jackdaws,  for  instance." 

*'  But  what  do  you  think,  sir  ?" 

"  Treasure,  I  hope,"  he  answered.  "  No  ;  it  may  be 
nothing  more  than  the  result  of  a  fissure.  But  I  would 
like  to  make  sure.  I  know  in  Ireland  a  red  sandstone 
cliff  with  a  hole  in  it  half-way  down.  When  I  was  a  boy, 
rummaging  about  on  the  little  hill  in  which  it  shows,  I 
found  a  way  down  inside  to  an  inner  cave  to  which  it 
formed  the  window." 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  Was  anything  inside  the  cave  ?"  asked  Robin, 
looking  up  eagerly. 

"  At  first  I  thought  not,"  Mr.  Hampden  answered ; 
"  but  afterwards  I  went  there  with  some  people  who 
know  about  these  things,  and  then  we  began  to  discover 
a  great  deal.  We  discovered  that  the  place  had  been  a 
dwelling-place  of  men  for  something  like  five  hundred 
years  before  the  use  of  metal  had  been  discovered.  The 
floor  was  a  sort  of  hard,  stamped-down  mass  of  flinty 
flakes,  potsherds,  chippings  of  a  hard  bluish  stone  which 
could  be  chipped  to  a  good  edge,  wood  ashes,  clay  from 
the  countryside,  bones  of  all  sorts  of  creatures,  and  a 
sort  of  slime  caused  by  the  tricklings  from  the  roof 
decomposing  the  softer  portions  of  the  rock.  We  dug 
out  about  a  foot  of  the  floor  ;  every  bit  of  it  was  full  of 
relics.  I  don't  think  there'll  be  anything  of  the  same 
kind  here,  but  we  may  as  well  find  out."  He  steadied 
the  boat  directly  under  the  hole.  "  Take  a  cast  here," 
he  said,  "  between  the  boat  and  the  rock.  What  do  you 
make  it  ?" 

"  Only  a  little  more  than  two,  sir,"  said  Robin.  "  It's 
very  shallow  here.  We've  often  noticed  it  when  we've 
been  bathing.  It's  deeper  the  other  side,  though,"  he 
added,  taking  a  cast  or  two  with  the  nimbleness  of  an 
old  leadsman.  He  lunged  out  over  the  side  to  take  an 
extreme  cast.  "  It  seems  to  deepen  gradually  to  about 
the  middle,"  he  said.  "  It's  only  a  patch  of  shallow,  like 
the  roots  of  a  worn-down  island." 

"  H'm,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  trying  to  get  a  view  of  the 
bottom  through  the  trailing  cloud  of  mud  stirred  up  by 
the  touch  of  the  plummet,  "  what  is  there  in  the  arming  ?" 

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A   Book    of   Discoveries 

"  Nothing  but  mud  and  a  few  black  specks,"  said 
Robin,  turning  up  the  lead.  He  brushed  a  few  of  the 
black  specks  on  to  his  forefinger,  and  rolled  his  thumb 
upon  them.     "  A  sort  of  black  grit,"  he  said. 

Mr.  Hampden  took  the  lead  and  examined  the  grease 
attentively. 

"'Have  you  got  your  scoop  with  you  ?"  he  asked.  "  I 
mean  your  drag.  What  is  it  you  test  the  bottom  with  ?" 
"  A  tin  lashed  to  the  end  of  a  stick,"  said  Mac,  handing 
the  weapon  over.  "  You  have  to  jounce  it  down  hard, 
and  then  give  it  a  kind  of  a  twirl,  so  that  the  stuff  won't 
fall  out  as  you  raise  it." 

'*  I  see,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  **  This  is  rather  a  clever 
drag.  I  like  it.  We'll  take  a  sample.  Give  me  the 
baler.  I'll  pour  the  stuff  into  the  baler,  so  that  we  can 
see  what  we  get." 

He  thrust  the  tin  into  the  water,  and  raked  it  across 
the  bottom  (from  upstream  down)  till  it  was  full.  With 
a  nimble  twirl  of  his  hands  he  brought  it  to  the  surface. 
He  poured  some  of  its  contents  into  the  old  saucepan 
with  which  the  boat's  leaks  were  baled. 

"  It  makes  one  feel  like  a  gold-digger,  washing  a  tin 
of  dirt  for  the  gold  in  it,"  he  said.  "  We'll  do  it  very 
gently,  as  though  there  were  gold  here." 

He  added  a  few  handfuls  of  water  to  the  pan,  and 
slowly  twisted  it  in  his  hand,  so  that  the  mud  washed 
away.  Under  the  mud  were  a  few  black  sodden  scraps 
of  leaves,  a  few  bits  of  black  woody  stuff,  and  a  few 
water- worn  pieces  of  bone.  Mr.  Hampden  crushed  some 
of  the  black  woody  stuff  between  his  fingers.  He  seemed 
to  consider  the  nature  of  the  paste  which  smeared  his 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

finger-tips.  He  looked  thoughtfully  at  the  bones,  and 
laid  them  to  one  side  on  the  thwart. 

"  I'll  take  another  scoop  in  the  same  place,"  he  said. 

This  time  he  drove  down  the  tin  with  force,  so  as  to 
make  a  deep  scooping.  The  boys  were  full  of  interest  as 
he  raised  the  tin  over  the  gunwale.  A  black  and  heavy 
thing  was  trailing  from  it.  It  showed  for  an  instant 
above  the  surface,  and  then  splashed  heavily  back  again. 
It  looked  to  Mac  to  be  an  old  boot  covered  with  weed. 
Robin  thought  it  was  a  small  log  of  wood  with  drift 
upon  it. 

"  It  wasn't  a  boot,  and  it  was  heavy  for  wood,"  said 
Mr.  Hampden,  as  he  emptied  his  catch  into  the  baler. 
"  What  have  we  got  here  ?  Bones  ?  No,  a  horse-tooth. 
Another  horse-tooth.  I  wonder  what  sort  of  a  horse  ate 
grass  with  these.  Anything  else  ?  Bits  of  bone. 
Black  stuff  again — silt,  mud,  stone.  The  stone's  inter- 
esting, and  this  heavy  thing  is  interesting.  It  feels  like 
a  bit  of  slag.  Now  we'll  fish  a  little  over  the  stern  to 
see  if  we  can  raise  that  black  thing  again." 

After  trying  without  success  to  raise  the  black  thing  a 
second  time,  they  pulled  back  to  the  boat-house,  so  that 
Mac  might  run  up  the  hill  to  the  tool-shed  to  get  some 
stout  wire,  some  thinner  wire,  and  a  pair  of  pliers.  With 
these  materials  Mr.  Hampden  began  to  make  a  grapnel, 
or  arrangement  of  several  stout  hooks  projecting  from  a 
single  stem.  He  weighted  this  by  tying  the  plumm-et  of 
the  leadline  to  it.  When  the  grapnel  was  finished  he 
began  to  drag  with  it  over  that  bit  of  the  river-bed  into 
which  the  mystery  had  fallen. 

"  I've  got  it!"  he  cried,  "  but  I  doubt  if  I  can  raise  it 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

with  the  hooks.  We  really  want  a  landing-net  for  it. 
Grope  for  it  with  the  dredger,  and  try  to  pin  it  into  the 
grapnel.  That's  it ;  that's  got  it.  Now  pin  it  well  in 
while  I  lift  it.     Here  it  comes." 

He  carefully  hauled  in  upon  his  line,  and  raised  the 
strange  thing  over  the  gunwale.  A  piece  of  thorn-bush 
was  stuck  fast  to  it.  It  was  by  the  thorn-bush  that  it 
had  been  caught  by  the  dredger. 

"  What  can  it  be  ?'*  said  Mac,  looking  curiously  at  it. 

"  I  believe  it's  a  boat,"  said  Robin. 

"It  is  a  boat,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  pulling  away  the 
piece  of  thorn-bush.  "  It's  rather  in  a  mess.  Wait  till 
we've  got  the  water  out  of  it."  He  sluiced  it  vigorously 
over  the  side  to  clear  the  filth  from  it,  and  then  held  it 
up  to  let  the  water  out  in  a  black  stream  from  what  had 
once  been  a  hatchway.  "  A  model  ship,"  he  said.  "  A 
frigate  of  about  the  time  of  the  Battle  of  the  Nile.  This 
was  probably  made  by  some  sailor  for  an  ornament." 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  some  boy's  model  ?"  said  Robin. 

He  looked  at  the  ship  keenly.  The  heavy  wooden  hull 
had  a  line  of  gun-ports  round  it  from  which  imitation 
cannon  pointed.  He  was  wondering  how  a  boy  might 
fire  those  cannon  simultaneously,  yet  get  a  fair  view  of 
the  flames  leaping  from  the  muzzles.  There  were  the 
stumps  of  three  masts  sticking  from  the  deck  like  broken 
teeth.  The  little  cannon  were  the  things  which  attracted 
him. 

"  No,  not  a  boy's  model,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  This 
was  an  ornament.  She  was  once  a  full-rigged  ship,  and 
you  cannot  sail  a  full-rigged  model.  Probably  she  came 
down  in  the  world  when  her  masts  were  broken.     I  dare 

337  Y 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

say  boys  have  dealt  with  her  in  her  time.  I  wonder  how 
long  she  has  been  under  the  water  here  ?  I  wonder  who 
wrecked  her  ?  What  would  you  like  to  do  with  her  ? 
Shall  we  set  her  down  the  river  again  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  the  boys. 

It  was  as  though  he  proposed  that  the.  Golden  Hind, 
newly  dug  from  the  mud  of  Deptford,  should  be  cut  up 
for  firewood.     Mr.  Hampden  tapped  the  hull. 

**  Pretty  sound  wood,"  he  said.  "  Why  not  take  it 
home  and  rig  it  ?" 

**  Yes,  sir  ;  yes,"  the  boys  cried  together. 

"  The  deck  is  split.  We  must  have  a  new  deck,"  said 
Mr.  Hampden,  "  and  then  we'll  see  what  we  can  do  to 
rig  it  exactly  as  she  would  have  been  rigged  a  hundred 
years  ago.  We'll  look  up  some  of  my  old  books,  and  see 
what  can  be  done." 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  easier  to  rig  it  in  modern  fashion, 
sir  ?"  said  Mac. 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Hampden  ;  "  because  one  can't  really 
rig  a  model  in  the  modern  fashion.  The  standing  rigging 
in  modern  ships  is  made  of  wire  rope,  and  one  cannot 
represent  that  properly  on  a  small  scale.  A  hundred 
years  ago  there  were  no  wire  ropes.  Now  we'll  get 
another  scoop  with  the  dredger  to  see  what  more  luck 
we  may  have." 


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Chapter  XXIV 


FTER  half  an  hour's  scooping  they 
began  to  scoop  up  old,  dirty  broken 
bones. 

"  It  looks  as  if  some  animal  had 
been  drowned  here,"  said  Robin. 
"Go  on  scooping,  Mac.  Perhaps 
we'll  rake  up  the  skull,  and  find 
out  whether  he's  a  horse  or  a 
cow." 

"  He  might  be  a  two-toed  horse,"  said  Mac.     "  There 
used  to  be  two-toed  horses,  usedn't  there,  sir  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  "  long  ago  ;  but  I  don't 
think  you'll  find  many  here."     He  was  looking  at  the 
bones  with  a  curious  eye.     **  Bones  and  stones,"  he  said. 
Some  of  the  bones  had  a  blackened  burnt  look.     He 
picked  up  a  curious  curved  bone  from  among  the  mess. 
''  Do  you  know  what  this  is  ?"  he  asked. 
"  Looks  like  one  of  those  fossil  things,  only  bigger. 
The  round  things,  broken,  which  go  round  the  marrow," 
said  Robin. 

"  Not  quite  so  exciting  as  that,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 
*'  It's  the  tusk  of  a  wild  boar." 
"  Oh,  sir  !" 


"  Is  it  really  ?' 


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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  Oh^yes.  They  must  have  been  common  in  this  wild 
part  till  long  after  the  Romans.  This  is  a  wild  boar's 
tusk,  and  a  pretty  big  one.  It's  a  rather  fearful  weapon 
when  it's  fixed  to  a  live  wild  boar." 

"  And  are  these  wild  boar's  bones,  sir  ?" 

'*  They  may  be,"  said  Mr.  Hampden  ;  "  but  to  me  they 
seem  to  be  such  a  mixed  lot  that  it  would  be  hard  to  say 
what  they  are.  They  are  very  much  broken.  Do  you 
know  what  that  means  ?  It  means  that  the  creature 
which  cracked  them  was  fond  of  marrow." 

"  A  dog,  sir  ?" 

'*  No  ;  these  bones  have  been  burnt.  They've  been  in 
the  fire,  some  of  them.     They've  been  cracked  by  men." 

"  What  men,  sir  ?" 

"  Who  can  tell  ?"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  But  I  should 
think  a  good  many  men,  from  the  number  of  the  bones. 
Do  you  begin  to  guess  something  now  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Mac. 

Robin  began  to  guess  something.  He  grinned,  and 
glanced  at  Mr.  Hampden  with  brightening,  expectant 
eyes. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  "  here's  a  bed  of  bones 
so  big  that  it's  made  a  shallow  in  the  river.  How  did  it 
come  here  ?  The  bones  have  been  cracked  by  men,  so 
it's  reasonable  to  suppose  that  they  were  thrown  here  by 
men.     Do  you  begin  to  see  something  now  ?" 

"  Men  threw  them  in  ?"  said  Mac,  groping  for  the 
truth. 

**  Where  do  you  suppose  they  stood  when  they  threw 
them  in  ?"  Mr.  Hampden  asked. 

Mac  stared.     Robin's  eyes  travelled  up  the  little  cliff. 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  The  shallow's  in  a  line  with  the  hole  in  the  cliff,"  he  said. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  **  That  means  that 
there's  a  cave  inside  beyond  that  opening — a  cave  big 
enough  for  the  home  of  a  good  many  men.  They  must 
have  lived  there  a  long  time,  and  eaten  an  enormous  lot 
of  meat,  to  leave  so  many  bones  in  the  river.  The  hole 
there  was  their  window  and  kitchen-sink.  The  river  was 
their  drinking-cup  and  their  drain.  Somewhere  up  there 
among  the  brambles  is  the  entrance  to  where  they  lived. 
Now  how  are  we  to  find  it  ?" 

"Get.  in  among  the  brambles  and  hunt  round.  We 
should  soon  find  it,"  said  Mac. 

"  Do  you  mind  if  we  drop  the  chart-making  ?"  said 
Robin. 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Hampden  ;  "  I  should  like  to  find  the 
entrance  if  we  can.  But  these  things  aren't  always  easy 
to  find.  A  little  fall  of  earth  may  block  them  altogether. 
If  the  cave  used  to  be  the  home  of  primitive  men  it 
probably  had  a  very  small  well-concealed  entrance  only 
just  big  enough  for  one  man  at  a  time,  and  the  cover  up 
there  is  frightfully  thick." 

"  We'll  get  through  it  all  right,"  said  Mac. 

"  Yes  ;  you're  boys,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  But  I'm 
thinking  of  your  clothes." 

*'  Couldn't  we  burn  it  off  ?"  said  Robin. 

"  It  wouldn't  burn,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  looking  up  at 
the  cover.  "  And  if  it  would  burn,  one  couldn't  tell 
where  the  fire  would  stop.  No  ;  we  must  hunt  about 
properly.  Let  us  suppose  that  we  are  Romans  hunting 
for  a  few  ancient  Britons  who  have  gone  into  hiding. 
What  would  be  our  first  step  ?" 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

"  They'd  have  had  dogs,  wouldn't  they,  sir  ?"  said 
Robin.     "  Like  the  Spaniards  had  ?" 

"  Not  with  the  armies,"  Mr.  Hampden  answered.  "  No  ; 
we  shall  have  to  look  with  our  own  eyes.  What  is  the 
likeliest  part  for  the  entrance  ?  The  least  likely  place. 
The  most  difficult  to  find.  Let's  get  ashore.  We'll 
scramble  up  and  begin  the  hunt." 

About  an  hour  afterwards  Mac  gave  a  hail  from  the 
middle  of  a  thicket  not  far  from  the  brink  of  the  cliff. 

"  I  rather  think  I've  got  it,"  he  cried.  "  It  looks 
rather  like  an  entrance,  only  the  stone's  fallen. .  Could 
3^ou  wriggle  up  here,  Mr.  Hampden  ?  It's  not  so  bad 
after  you're  past  the  gorse." 

Mr.  Hampden  and  Robin  wriggled  to  him.  They  found 
him  hacking  away  at  brambles  with  his  knife,  so  as  to 
clear  a  little  space.  He  was  flushed,  but  happy.  His 
hands  were  badly  scratched.  He  showed  with  pride  a 
hollow  in  the  ground,  a  sort  of  pit,  such  as  one  sees  in 
old  warrens,  where  the  earth,  long  undermined  by  the 
rabbits,  has  at  last  fallen,  leaving  a  part  of  the  passage 
bare.  The  passage  in  this  case  was  lined  with  neatly-laid 
stones,  some  of  which  had  fallen  from  their  places.  The 
heavy  rains  after  a  frost  had  broken  in  the  roof  at  last. 
The  cover  of  brambles  had  kept  it  ungrassed.  A  few 
spare  tufts  poked  up.  The  passage  seemed  to  lead  right 
and  left  from  the  fall-in. 

"  It's  not  the  mouth  of  the  passage,"  Mac  explained 
proudly.  "  It's  a  bit  where  the  roof  has  fallen.  I 
shouldn't  have  noticed  it  if  it  hadn't  been  for  a  bunny. 
He  ran  this  way,  and  I  happened  to  get  a  glimpse  of 
where  he  burrowed." 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

Mr.  Hampden  looked  at  the  stones  lining  the  sides  of 
the  passage.  He  struck  matches,  and  peered  down  the 
dark  openings  one  after  the  other. 

"  You're  in  luck,"  he  said.  "  Yes  ;  this  is  a  passage. 
Now  we  want  a  spade  and  candles." 

"  We  could  grub  it  up  with  our  fingers,  sir,"  said  Mac. 

He  did  not  want  to  be  sent  for  tools,  while  Robin 
remained  to  grub  with  his  fingers. 

"  I  dare  say,"  said  Mr.  Hampden,  ''  you  could  carve 
your  dinner  with  your  fingers.  We'll  get  a  spade  and 
candles.  Half  a  dozen  full-size  candles,  not  stumps,  for 
you've  no  idea  how  quickly  they  waste  in  the  open  air 
and  underground.  D'you  think  your  mother  could 
supply  us  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Right.  And  you,  Mac — you're  the  discoverer — you 
go  down  first.  You'll  have  to  take  a  trowel  in  case  the 
way's  blocked.  And  always  take  care  to  hold  your 
candle  low  down,  near  the  ground,  for  bad  air  gathers 
near  the  ground,  and  if  there's  bad  air  in  the  place  it's 
just  as  well  to  let  your  candle  go  out  instead  of  yourself. 
Now  we'll  go  off  to  your  mother." 

In  about  twenty  minutes'  time  Mac  was  burrowing 
down  head-first  into  the  clammy  darkness,  with  a  candle 
guttering  hot  tallow  on  to  his  fist.  Robin,  who  followed 
him,  could  see  him  as  a  black  lumbering  blur  with  a 
waving  dimness  ahead  of  him.  The  air  was  not  bad  in 
the  passage,  only  a  little  strange.  It  was  damp  and 
close,  as  though  it  needed  a  tonic.  The  passage  was  high 
enough  for  the  three  to  scramble  along  it  on  their  hands 
and  knees.     As  they  scrambled,  gripping  their  candles, 

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A    Book    of   Discoveries 

they  noticed  the  well-laid  stones  on  both  sides  of  them 
rising  up  in  dampish,  regular  walls.  Suddenly  Mac 
stopped. 

"  It  seems  to  broaden  out  a  bit  here,"  he  said.  "  I 
can  almost  stand  up.  Wait  a  minute  till  I  light  another 
candle." 

He  lit  another  candle,  and  stuck  it  into  the  floor,  where 
its  flame  wavered  as  flames  will,  even  when  no  draught 
can  be  felt.  The  three  could  see  a  sort  of  dim  room, 
about  four  and  a  half  feet  high  by  eight  across.  It  was 
a  circular  room,  shaped  exactly  like  a  bun,  higher  in  the 
middle  than  at  the  edge.  Gaps  in  the  walls  showed  that 
passages  led  from  it  into  further  darkness.  A  hurried 
scurrying  of  a  frightened  rabbit  rattled  a  pebble  far  up 
one  of  the  alleys.  They  heard  the  thump  of  a  rabbit's 
warning. 

"  Which  is  the  passage,  sir  ?"  said  Mac.  "  Straight 
on,  I  suppose  ?" 

Mr.  Hampden  scraped  at  the  floor  with  a  testing  finger. 

"  Straight  on,"  he  said.  "  There's  been  fire  here. 
Straight  on,  and  mind  where  you're  going.  We'll  leave 
the  candle  burning  to  guide  us  back." 

"  We  can  find  our  way  back  without  that,  sir,"  said 
Mac. 

*'  I  wouldn't  be  too  sure,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  These 
ancient  burro  wings  are  often  very  strange.  There  are 
some  in  Kent,  cut  in  the  chalk,  which  lead  under  the 
earth  for  miles.  They  twist  so  strangely  and  they  go  so 
far  that  a  man  who  goes  into  them  runs  a  very  good 
chance  of  being  lost  for  ever." 

''  What  were  they  for,  sir  ?"  Robin  asked. 

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A    Book    of  Discoveries 

"  Nobody  knows,"  he  answered.  "  We  know  nothing, 
really,  about  any  kind  of  life  which  we  haven't  lived. 
Historians  think  they  were  used  for  hiding-places  or 
storing-places,  and  others  think  that  they  were  temples  ; 
and  some  say  that  they  are  merely  galleries  cut  by  the 
men  who  worked  the  chalk  for  the  flints  which  it  con- 
tained. We  know  nothing  at  all  about  it.  Probably,  if 
the  men  who  made  them  could  come  to  talk  with  us,  they 
would  give  us  an  explanation  so  simple  that  we  should 
be  amazed  at  our  own  folly  in  not  guessing.  This  place 
here  is  queer  enough ^  so  go  carefully,  friend  Mac,  and  look 
out  for  a  well.  Nothing  like  putting  a  well  in  the  middle 
of  the  hall  to  keep  out  strangers." 

They  groped  on  again  in  the  dark.  The  walls  of  the 
passage  shot  up  suddenly,  so  that  the  boys  could  stand 
if  they  bent  their  heads  a  little.  Presently  Mac  ran  into 
the  wall  of  rock.  The  passage  ended  suddenly  in  the 
blank  stone.  Nothing  but  a  little  suck  of  air  upon  his 
ankles  told  him  that  more  remained  to  be  discovered. 

"  I  say,  it  ends  here,"  he  called.  "No,  it  doesn't  ; 
but  you've  got  to  crawl  again.  Here's  a  passage,  and  it 
seems  light  beyond.  I  say,  this  is  the  cave  beyond  here. 
You  kneel  down  and  crawl  sharp  to  your  left." 

*'  It  would  be  easy  to  defend  this  place,"  said  Mr. 
Hampden.  "  You  could  spear  anybody  who  tried  to  get 
through  without  giving  him  a  chance  to  spear  you.  Go 
ahead,  Mac." 

Mac  was  already  squirming  through  the  hole.  It  was 
a  narrower  passage  than  the  other.  It  had  been  primi- 
tive man's  front-door  ;  it  had  been  built  by  people  who 
lived  their  lives  in  continual  fear  of  death.     Mr.  Hampden 

345 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

was  forced  to  haul  himself  along  by  sticking  his  fingers 
into  cracks  and  on  to  knobs  in  the  rock.  When  he  came 
within  reach  the  boys  hauled  him  through  with  a  will. 

"  Shut  your  eyeS;  sir,"  Robin  called — "  shut  your  eyes. 
It's  simply  splendid.     Don't  open  them  till  you're  inside." 

He  shut  his  eyes  as  he  was  bid,  while  the  boys  dragged 
him  into  the  inner  chamber.  He  felt  a  sensible  coolness 
upon  his  cheeks  as  the  chill  of  the  vault  struck  upon  him 
after  the  heat  of  wriggling. 

"  Can  I  stand  up  without  bumping  my  head  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  yes,"  the  boys  cried.  "  There's  lots  of 
room  simply.     Simply  lots  of  room." 

He  stood  up  and  opened  his  eyes.  "  Well,"  he  said, 
"  I'd  never  expected  this.     What  an  amazing  place  !" 

As  far  as  he  could  see  by  the  light  of  the  candles  and 
by  a  shaft  of  sunlight  which  slanted  in  through  the  hole 
in  the  wall,  he  was  standing  in  a  cave  about  twenty  feet 
square  by  nine  high.  How  it  had  come  to  be  there  he 
could  not  tell,  but  it  seemed  to  him  to  be  a  natural  hollow, 
only  slightly  adapted  in  some  places  by  the  hand  of  man. 

The  river  went  past  outside  with  a  slight  clucking 
gurgle,  like  the  noise  of  the  tide  loitering  past  the  body 
of  a  ship.  The  noise  of  the  birds  came  in  a  faint  chirrup 
from  the  cover  above  ;  otherwise,  they  were  in  a  place 
as  secret  as  an  inner  tomb.  The  sense  of  its  secrecy 
Weighed  upon  them.  All  three  stood  quite  still,  letting 
the  wonder  of  it  grow.  This  was  their  discovery  ;  this 
was  something  which  nobody  else  in  the  wide  world  knew 
about.  What  a  place  it  was  !  Better  than  an  eyrie  of 
planks  in  an  elm-tree ;  better  than  a  lair  among  gorse. 
The  boys   wondered   whether   any  boys   in  the   world's 

346 


A    Book    of    Discoveries 

history  had  ever  had  such  a  haunt ;  and  it  was  new,  not 
explored  yet,  not  touched.  They  were  perhaps  the  first 
people  to  come  there  since  the  days  of  the  Caesars.  It 
had  lain  under  their  noses  all  these  years,  and  they  had 
never  guessed  ;  and  now  they  were  standing  in  it,  moved 
to  the  quick,  waiting  for  a  sign  from  Mr.  Hampden. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  this  is  better  than  chart-making  and 
hearing  about  Columbus.  We'll  turn  out  our  pockets,  and 
light  all  our  candles,  then  we  shall  see  what  there  is  here." 

They  brought  out  all  their  candles,  lit  them,  and  stuck 
them  about  the  cave,  so  that  they  could  see.  Robin, 
moving  into  a  corner,  started  suddenly  at  a  black  thing 
lying  on  the  ground.  He  had  feared  lest  it  should  be  a 
skeleton ;  but  it  was  no  such  thing,  only  a  big  blackened 
flat  stone,  presumably  a  hearth-stone. 

'*  Here's  the  fireplace,"  he  said,  '*  and  here's  some 
charcoal  left  from  the  fires,  and  some  ashes." 

The  others  came  over  and  looked  at  the  relic,  wonder- 
ing what  sort  of  people  had  made  that  fire,  and  when, 
and  why.  A  couple  of  rude  clay  saucers,  rather  big  and 
clumsy,  but  decorated  at  the  rim  with  herring-bone 
scratches,  lay  beside  the  hearth.  There  had  been  other 
crockery,  too,  but  time  had  destroyed  it.  A  few  shards 
lay  there,  a  few  half-burnt  ears  of  corn,  a  few  bones. 
From  the  way  the  bones  lay  scattered  one  felt  that  the 
last  diners  in  the  cave  had  been  about  to  leave  that  place 
for  ever,  and  had  had  a  friendly  cock-shy  match  with  the 
bones  at  the  crockery  from  which  they  had  eaten.  Mr. 
Hampden  looked  at  the  corn  through  his  magnify ing-glass. 

**  We've  improved  our  corrl  since  then,"  he  said. 
"  This  is  scanty  and  poor.     I  dare  say,  if  we  grub  about, 

347 


A    Book    of  Discoveries 

we  shall  find  a  little  hole  in  the  ground  quite  full  of  grain 
like  this.  There's  a  camp  in  Somersetshire  which  I 
examined  once  with  a  party  of  archaeologists.  We  found 
a  little  hole  in  the  ground  crammed  to  the  brim  with 
ears,  not  only  of  corn,  but  of  some  kinds  of  grasses. 
The  hole  had  been  carefully  covered,  and  the  ears  were 
quite  recognisable.  I  wonder  if  any  of  this  stuff  would 
grow  ?  One  often  hears  that  seeds  found  in  this  way 
will  grow.  We  might  try  next  spring.  .,  What  else  is 
there  here  ?" 

They  knelt  down  and  examined  the  floor.  It  was  not 
merely  the  bare  sandstone.  Some  of  the  long-ago  men 
who  lived  there  had  pampered  the  softness  of  their  bones 
with  leaves,  rushes,  the  needles  of  the  spruce,  sprouts  of 
young  heath,  and  bracken.  Time  had  changed  these  to 
dust,  and  other  generations  of  men  had  beaten  down 
more,  adding  clay  from  the  country-side,  the  debris  of 
their  sport  and  work,  chippings  of  stone,  bones,  skins, 
horn,  etc.,  which  later  generations  had  pounded  flat  as 
they  came  and  went. 

**  They've  slept  here,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  This  fine, 
withered,  beaten,  dusty  stuff  is  what  is  left  of  heather. 
I  wonder  if  they  fetched  it  from  Brown  Willy  ?" 

He  took  out  his  knife  and  dug  gently  at  the  compost 
of  the  floor.  A  chunk  of  it  came  up  in  his  hand,  and 
broke  as  he  held  it  from  very  dryness.  It  fell  with  a 
little  rattle  of  chips.  He  picked  up  a  few  of  them. 
•  "  Here  you  are,"  he  said.  "  Mac,  your  fortune's  made. 
Here's  two  years'  work  for  you.  The  floor  of  this  cave 
is  made,  you  might  almost  say,  of  flint  chippings.  Here's 
an  arrow-head,  broken  when  he'd  got  it  nearly  perfect  ; 

348 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

here's  the  beginning  of  a  spear-head  ;  here's  a  handful  of 
scrapers.  You'll  have  to  write  a  book  about  the  contents 
of  this  cave.  It's  one  of  the  richest  in  this  part  of  Eng- 
land. You'll  have  to  bestir  yourself,  and  become  an 
archaeologist." 

The  boys  grubbed  with  their  fingers  at  the  floor,  crying 
out  with  delight  at  every  new  discovery.  Robin  got  an 
arrow-head,  Mac  a  neat  bone  skillet.  They  were  over- 
come by  the  sight  of  the  wealth  below  them.  They  had 
come  into  an  endless  treasure,  which  would  give  them 
arrow-heads  and  other  joys,  enough  to  supply  every  boy 
in  their  school.  Mac  picked  up  a  bone  rudely  scratched 
with  the  drawing  of  a  man.  Mr.  Hampden  went  to  the 
window  and  looked  out. 

"  There  must  have  been  a  fine  view  from  here,"  he 
said,  "  before  the  plantation  grew  so  full.  They  were 
able  to  look  out  on  this  side." 

Something  made  him  bend  quickly  to  examine  the 
stone  in  the  hole  of  the  window  through  his  lens.  It  was 
only  a  scratch  upon  the  stone,  almost  weathered  out  by 
the  beating  in  of  the  south-west  rains.  What  it  had 
once  been  he  could  not  guess,  since  so  much  of  it  was 
perished,  but  enough  of  it  remained  to  show  him  that 
Romans  had  been  there.  What  Romans  ?  What  were 
lettered  Romans  doing  there  in  that  strange  place,  so 
far  from  any  Roman  road  or  town  ?  He  said  nothing. 
He  stared  out  into  the  valley,  lost  in  though.  At  cry 
from  the  boys  made  him  turn  again. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  he  asked. 

He  saw  that  Mac  had  turned  up  something  strange 
from  the  jumble  of  rubbish  which  made  the  floor.     It 

349 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

was  a  beautiful  worked  stone  axe-head,  worn  smooth  by 
incredible  labour.  A  withered  shaft  was  still  secured  to 
it  in  the  usual  way  with  a  gut  lashing.  Mac  made  a 
playful  chop  with  it  at  his  brother's  head.  Robin 
ducked. 

"  You  haven't  seen  any  metal  in  the  cave  ?"  Mr. 
Hampden  asked. 

No,  the  boys  had  seen  no  metal.  The  cave  was  seem- 
ingly the  home  of  workers  in  stone,  who  had  never  known 
the  use  of  metal. 

The  boys  stopped  their  grubbing  at  the  floor  in  order 
to  dance  a  kind  of  war-dance  to  show  their  delight.  They 
ran  to  the  window  to  look  out,  as  primitive  man  must 
have  looked  out  centuries  before. 

"  I  say,  Mac,"  said  Robin,  **  your  face  is  simply 
filthy.*' 

"  So's  yours,"  said  Mac.  "  So's  Mr.  Hampden's. 
m\  wash  off." 

**  You're  not  half  discoverers,"  said  Mr.  Hampden. 
"  You're  not  looking  to  see  what's  at  the  lower  end  there, 
where  it's  dark.  Take  a  candle  there.  There  may  be  a 
well,  and  it's  as  well  not  to  go  carelessly,  lest  we  should 
tread  on  something,  and  perhaps  break  it." 

"  What  sort  of  something  ?"  said  Robin. 

"  Any  sort,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  From  bones  to  a 
King's  crown." 

They  took  their  candles,  and  advanced  cautiously  to 
the  corner,  examining  every  inch  of  the  floor.  The  boys 
noticed  that  Mr.  Hampden  examined  the  wall  carefully 
with  both  his  candles. 

"  Are  you  looking  for  writing,  sir  ?"  they  asked. 

350 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

'*  Not  so  much  writing  as  pictures,"  he  answered — 
"  or,  rather,  drawings.  The  cave-dwellers  sometimes  drew 
things,  or  scratched  them  on  the  walls  of  their  caves. 
Though  I'm  not  sure  that  any  such  drawings  have  been 
found  in  England.  In  Africa  they  painted  with  ex- 
tremely brilliant  lasting  colour,  and  some  of  the  paintings 
(of  ostriches,  other  birds,  and  animals)  are  very  good 
indeed,  full  of  spirit  and  life.  But  there  seems  to  be 
nothing  like  that  here." 

As  he  spoke  his  boot  struck  something  which  gave  out 
a  chirring  sound,  like  rusty  metal  suddenly  moved.  He 
bent  down  and  picked  it  up.  It  had  lain  for  hundreds 
of  years  in  what  was  plainly  a  damp  portion  of  the  cave, 
for,  though  the  August  heats  had  dried  the  wetness  which 
ran  there  at  other  seasons,  the  stones  there  were  mouldy 
with  damp.  The  damp  had  eaten  away  the  metal  with 
rust.  It  was  hard  to  say  what  it  once  had  been.  It 
was  an  oblong  of  metal  (even  the  kind  of  metal  was  not 
very  certain).  That  it  had  been  the  work  of  man  was 
evident  from  its  shape,  and  from  a  hole  pierced  in  one 
of  the  upper  corners.  The  other  corners  had  broken 
away,  rusted  through. 

"  What  is  it,  sir  ?"  the  boys  asked. 

"  I  think  I  can  guess  what  it  was,"  Mr.  Hampden 
answered,  thinking  of  the  scratchings  at  the  window, 
"  but  I  won't  tell  you  till  we've  seen  if  there's  anything 
more  of  the  same  kind.  I'll  only  tell  you  that  the  cave's 
getting  a  good  deal  more  interesting." 

The  boys  glanced  at  each  other  delightedly.  They 
worked  their  way  to  the  darkest,  farthest  corner  of  all, 
where  something  seemed  to  stick  up  rather  from  the  cave- 

351 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

floor.  In  the  uncertain  light  they  were  not  sure  at  first 
that  it  was  more  than  a  roll  of  the  rock  ;  then  it  took  on 
the  shape  of  a  heap  of  dust  blown  in  at  odd  times,  and 
drifted  there  by  some  odd  twist  of  draught  given  by  the 
cave's  shape. 

"  It  might  be  the  dust  of  a  dead  fox  or  something," 
said  Robin,  kneeling  down  beside  the  heap. 

"  How  had  we  better  examine  it  ?"  Mac  asked. 

They  were  afraid  of  being  hasty  after  what  Mr.  Hamp- 
den had  said  about  the  King's  crown. 

"It  is  quite  dry  in  this  part  of  the  cave,"  said  Mr. 
Hampden,  touching  the  dust.  "  A  rather  curious  shape, 
the  heap,  isn't  it  ?  Oblong,  like  a  .  .  ."  He  did  not 
finish  the  sentence,  but  picked  up  a  fragment  of  what 
had  once  been  wood.  "  Wood-dust,"  he  said.  "  Per- 
haps this  is  their  little  wood-pile." 

Very  gently  he  swept  aside  a  little  of  the  wood-dust 
with  his  fingers.  Something  fell  over  with  a  tinkle  of 
metal  into  the  powder  about  it. 

**  Coins,"  said  Robin — "  coins  !" 

Mr.  Hampden  picked  up  a  coin  and  looked  at  it.  It 
was  a  little-worn,  little  silver  coin  of  the  Emperor  Con- 
stantine.  It  had  been  the  topmost  of  a  little  neat  heap 
of  similar  coins,  which  now  lay  tumbled  (about  a  dozen 
all  told)  in  the  soft  dust. 

**  I  know  what  this  is,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  This  heap 
up  here  in  the  corner  was  once  a  box  of  Roman  money ; 
either  a  military  pay-chest  or  the  weekly  or  monthly 
wages  of  some  business  establishment,  a  big  farm  or  fac- 
tory. All  the  money  is  put  up  in  little  neat  tiny  piles, 
all  ready  to  pay  out  the  workers ;  and  it  was  stolen,  I 

352 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

suppose,  on  the  way,  and  brought  here  and  hidden,  and 
then  never  found.  I  wonder  if  the  thief  got  caught  ? 
Or  perhaps  it  was  brought  here  in  a  hurry,  and  flung 
aside  when  the  Romans  were  flying  out  of  Britain.  This 
Emperor  Constantine  came  towards  the  end  of  the 
Roman  rule  here.  It's  a  pity  that  the  coins  cannot  talk 
to  us.  Mac,  you're  fonder  of  running  than  any  of  us. 
You  run  back  home  and  ask  your  mother  if  she  will  very 
kindly  lend  us  a  bellows.  We'll  blow  away  all  the  dust 
here,  and  then  we  shall  see  the  coins  exactly  as  the 
Romans  left  them,  in  little  piles  ready  for  the  workers." 

Mac  was  not  usually  given  to  hurry,  but  on  this  occa- 
sion he  Went  off  like  a  young  colt. 

"  Be  careful,  Mac,"  said  Mr.  Hampden.  "  Don't  lose 
your  way.  You'll  find  that  I've  burnt  little  black  soot 
crosses  on  the  walls  to  the  right  of  the  passage  as  you 
go  out,  so  don't  take  a  wrong  turn.  And  while  you're 
there,  please  bring  some  more  candles." 

When  Mac  returned  with  the  bellows  and  the  lights 
Mr.  Hampden  gave  him  the  work  of  puffing  away  the 
heap  of  dust  from  the  coins  which  lay  below  it.  In  some 
places  traces  of  skin  or  hide  still  showed  above  the  little 
piles,  but  for  the  most  part  the  dust  blew  away  readily. 
When  all  was  gone  they  saw  a  hundred  and  twenty  little 
piles  of  Roman  money,  most  of  them  of  silver,  some  of 
them  of  copper,  arranged  in  neat  rows.  In  the  centre 
row  were  stacks  of  square  brass  checks  or  tallies,  arranged 
for  issue  to  unknown  workmen,  when  Rome  was  still  the 
world's  ruler. 

Mac  routed  about  the  cave's  side  for  a  moment.  He 
picked  up  something,  and  iianded  it  to  Mr.  Hampden. 

353 


A    Book    of   Discoveries 

It  was  a  sort  of  oblong  metal  plate  about  live  inches  long. 
It  had  a  partly  legible  Latin  inscription  on  it,  which  Mr. 
Hampden  transcribed.     It  ran  something  as  follows  : 

"  horseman  of  the  .  .  . 
years,  is  hereby  authorised  to  keep 

wife 

service, 
and  to  follow/* 

*'  It's  a  Roman  soldier's  discharge."  said  Mr.  Hampden. 
"  They  issued  plaques  like  this  to  the  old  soldiers  who 
were  past  service.  He  was  probably  authorised  by  this 
to  keep  two  slaves,  and  not  more  than  one  wife,  as  a 
reward  for  faithful  service.  I  wonder  what  brought  the 
plaque  here,  and  what  it  is  doing  here  with  all  this  money. 
There  has  been  something  very  fishy  somewhere.  Well, 
we  shall  never  know.  I  think  this  is  the  most  wonderful 
of  our  discoveries." 

"  And  what  shall  we  do  with  it,  sir  ?"  asked  Robin. 

"  Keep  it  very  secret  for  the  present,"  said  Mr.  Hamp- 
den. "  We'll  all  three  set  to  work  at  once  on  the  con- 
tents of  this  cave,  and  write  a  book  about  what  we  find." 
He  paused  a  minute  to  look  at  the  two  boys'  faces,  glow- 
ing with  excitement  under  the  mud.  "  They  may  say 
what  they  hke  about  discovery,"  he  added  "  but  the 
W(mderful  discoveries  lie  under  our  noses  all  the  time,  if 
we  only  had  the  sense  to  make  them." 


THE    END 


VVRLLS   GARDNER,    DARTON    AND   CO.,    LTD.,    PATERNOSTER    BUILDINGS,    LONDON,    EC. 


'\Ayiw;) 


d 


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14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

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REC'D  LD 


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^ANS   m^ 


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